


Garreg Mach Theatre Department Presents: The Little Mermaid

by GhirahimJohnson



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Edelgard and Dimitri are step-siblings and live together with El's mom and Dimitri's dad, Ferdinand is a Disney dork and you can't tell me otherwise, Fire Emblem theatre dorks, Multi, Sorry that it's so dialogue heavy but hey that's how supports work aint it, This is self indulgence for me myself and I, no beta we die like Glenn, nonbinary byleth, so blease do not yell at me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21737596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhirahimJohnson/pseuds/GhirahimJohnson
Summary: Garreg Mach's Drama Department has been notably neglected by Principal Rhea's stingy funding decisions. But Edelgard wants to flip the past on its head - and put on a Disney musical.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Background Claude von Riegan/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Background Sylvain Jose Gautier/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 9
Kudos: 86





	1. Impulsive Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this happened at like, four AM with me and my friend, both having done theatre in the past - it was all a funny inside joke until it wasn't and then my grubby hands were on my keyboard and now it's real.

“What if we just said ‘fuck it’ and did a musical?” Dorothea had suggested, most likely joking.

“A musical?” Edelgard had repeated. 

“Hamlet was super fun, and so was Murder In The Cathedral, but the audiences probably think we’re always depressing,” Dorothea continued. “It’d be funny if we changed it up and did an upbeat musical!” 

Edelgard really was sure that Dorothea wasn’t being serious - but here she is at home, laptop open, scrolling through MTI’s website. Producing and directing Hamlet in the fall semester had been Edelgard and (her loyal Stage Manager) Hubert’s idea - perhaps they’d overestimated how much Shakespearian passion was present in the Garreg Mach Drama Department, but at least Dorothea, Ferdinand, and Lorenz had been there to carry the damn thing. It really was ambitious, especially having casted Dorothea as Hamlet, which Principal Rhea had not explicitly approved of.

But Edelgard couldn’t give two shits about that. In fact, knowing how much Rhea has been cutting funding to the arts departments (in favor of arguably unnecessary renovations and an additional astroturf field), she itches to spite her. 

Her trackpad clicks onto one title, and some drop-downs, to get a price estimate for show rights.

Dimitri, Edelgard's step-brother, meanders down the stairs, heavy-footed, scratching his stomach. He’s in a wrinkled grunge band T-shirt and oversized blue sweats. He’s only got one sock on.

“Oh, hey El,” he yawns, “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Edelgard agrees. She clicks “purchase” after entering the Drama Department’s payment information. Lucky they had enough left from Hamlet’s ticket sales… She closes her laptop and smiles at Dimitri.

“Do you feel like watching a movie?”

Dimitri rubs his eyes, dragging himself to the couch and flopping onto it. “Sure,” he replies, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

“Great.” Edelgard takes a moment to send a text to Dorothea before she gets up to grab a DVD from the shelf by the television. She pops it into their PS4 to play it.

Dimitri smiles as Edelgard settles back onto the sofa, and as the movie begins. “Aw, this one’s been your favorite since forever, El.” A familiar overture starts to swell, lighthearted and nautical. “I like The Little Mermaid, too.”

“Edie!” Dorothea screams the next day, “Edie, really?! Are you serious?! Really?!”

Edelgard can’t help but laugh. She nods. “I bought the rights last night. I’m going to have a budget meeting soon with the administrators to see if we can squeeze out more from Rhea’s claws, but it’s official. The show will be the two last weekends of April!”

Squealing, Dorothea jumps in a circle around Edelgard and then grabs her shoulders and squeezes them. “Edie, you don’t even know how happy I am! Oh my Goddess, I…! Ah! Everyone is going to be _so_ excited!” She places her hands on her hips proudly. “If you need someone to direct music, I’ll-”

Edelgard interrupts her with a shake of the head. “Absolutely not. Manuela will be music directing. _You_ are going to audition.”

Dorothea laughs, clapping her hands eagerly. “Okay! That’s even better!” She giggles. “I had kinda hoped you’d say that…”

The two girls make sure to post a notice for auditions on the call board, and then scurry away to avoid any sudden traffic floods - They were right to, because after Ferdinand’s excited shout, students began rushing into the callway to check audition dates for The Little Mermaid. 

“You’ve _never_ seen The Little Mermaid?!” Ferdinand is demanding Claude, jostling his shoulders. 

Claude snickers and pries Ferdinand off of him by the wrists. “No, I didn’t really watch a ton of Disney movies growing up. I guess I still haven’t.”

“That’s a lie,” Hilda butts in, “We literally saw Frozen 2 last week!”

“Frozen doesn’t count, it’s not one of the classics, _and_ it’s become its own franchise that’s different than the Disney Princess franchise entirely!” Ferdinand’s voice echoes through the callway and turns a few heads, only making Claude laugh more. “What about Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty? Or at least The Lion King?”

Claude shakes his head. “Well, yeah, everyone’s seen Lion King, but I mean, I just didn’t grow up with all of the Disney stuff.” 

“It’s not that weird when you remember he’s not from here,” Hilda reminds him. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Ferdinand spouts innocently. “I just feel bad! I’ve adored Disney movies since forever!” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Claude teases, nodding to Ferdinand’s backpack, hosting a variety of Disney pins. 

“Yeah! I’ve been to Disney World three times and loved it more each time I went!” Ferdinand exclaims obliviously. “I even keep my old VHS’s of some of the older movies that I had when I was young!”

“Someone’s excited,” remarks a serene voice. 

Byleth, the student teacher for Ferdinand's class, approaches the chattering students. 

“What’s up, Teach?” Claude greets them with a wink. He flashes a brief peace sign. 

“Nothing much right now,” they reply. “Edelgard asked me to check the callway and see how many people looked interested in auditioning.” 

“I am!” Ferdinand places his hands proudly on his hips. 

“Hm. I wouldn’t’ve guessed,” Hilda murmurs. 

Ferdinand tilts his head. “Really? I always make sure to audition for every one of Edelgard’s shows!”

As Claude and Hilda shake their collective heads, Byleth speaks up again. 

“I’ll definitely have to watch The Little Mermaid on my laptop tonight. Just to give myself a refresher.” 

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Ferdinand exclaims. “You can all come over to my house tonight, and we can watch it together!” 

Byleth shakes their head. “Sorry, Ferdinand. I have to finish grading a bunch of assignments tonight and I’ll need to focus.”

“I can come, though,” Claude says with a shrug and a smile to make Ferdinand’s disappointed frown disappear. “We can all go to dinner and make a night out of it!”

“ _All_ ?” Hilda whines, “Ugh, _I_ have to come, too? Can’t this just be a date between you and Ferdinand?”

Claude rolls his eyes and pokes her on the crown of her head. “What else were you gonna do tonight?” 

“Nothing, but _still!_ ” 

Ferdinand smiles, but his eyes are on his phone. “It wouldn’t be a date anyhow, I’ve already invited Dorothea and Lorenz!”

“See, we can bully Lorenz tonight, babe,” Claude coos mockingly, hugging around Hilda’s shoulders and nuzzling her cheek. “See, little baby? See?” 

Hilda pouts, trying to mask a laugh, and pushes his face away. “I’m gonna bully you instead.”

“Yes please.”

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Byleth speaks up, reminding everyone that they hadn’t actually left the callway. They smile. “Have fun at your movie.”

Ferdinand is crammed between Lorenz and Claude in the booth of an Applebees with Dorothea and Hilda sitting across from them. 

“I still can’t believe Edelgard would pick a Disney musical of all things,” Lorenz is commenting. “I would have guessed she might pick Sunset Boulevard or Miss Saigon, or something among that division.”

Dorothea flaps her hand dismissively. “No way, Lorenz. The Little Mermaid has always been her favorite Disney movie!” She giggles. “Whenever she listens to the songs, she bobs her head or shimmies her shoulders, it’s the cutest thing!”

Hilda laughs. “Edelgard? Doing something that cute? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Oh, just wait for the rehearsal process, then!” Dorothea steals one of Claude’s mozzarella sticks and he stares at her, baffled.

“Ha, yeah, count me out of that one, henny.” Hilda joins Dorothea in stealing Claude’s mozzarella sticks as he glares at her in response.

“Well,” Claude crosses his arms and takes a long sip of Hilda’s strawberry lemonade as a retort, “I’m gonna audition this time. This seems like tons more fun than Shakespeare.”

“Claude, noooo,” Hilda groans, “You can’t make me do this!”

“You know, you don’t have to audition just to be around Claude,” Lorenz points out. 

“Yeah, right, as if you’d audition for anything without Ferdinand around!” Hilda argues. 

“Irrelevant question. Ferdie auditions for everything.”

“I do!” Ferdinand says with a smile.

Dorothea gasps, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my gosh, Ferdie, you would be an _adorable_ Prince Eric!” She clasps her hands together. “Could you imagine?!”

Ferdinand suddenly finds himself blushing, and tugs at his preppy little button-up. “Really? You think so?”

“Absolutely!” Dorothea insists. “Your voice is in perfect range for him, and you’re just the spitting image of a male ingenue! Am I wrong?”

“Ferdie would be fantastic as the prince!” Lorenz agrees, “He’s the obvious choice.”

“Right? Edie totally had Ferdie in mind when she was picking the show.” 

Ferdinand brings his hands up to his blushing cheeks. “I… suppose she might have thought about me. Or at least I hope she would! I’d love to play Prince Eric…”

Dorothea waves her wrist. “You’re a shoe-in for that role, Ferdie. No doubt.”

None of them had actually ordered any meals, only a couple of half-apps to share. Their server arrives with their checks quickly enough. They all gather back at Ferdinand’s (large) house soon after, piling loudly into his basement to use his (large) flatscreen smart TV. Ferdinand made sure everyone took off their shoes so that his dad wouldn’t get upset when he woke up the next morning. Caspar had once tracked some dirt inside and Ferdinand had gotten a harsh tongue-lashing that he never wanted again…. (Caspar had bought him some boba tea to apologize.) 

Claude starts settling underneath a fleece throw blanket beside Hilda, shivering. “Your hardwood floors are nice, but they’re super cold…”

Ferdinand nods, picking out The Little Mermaid in Blu-Ray and putting it into the DVD slot on his player. “I agree - That’s why I wear fuzzy socks!” He slides enthusiastically, in a red pair of said fuzzy socks, over to the couch and flops down beside Lorenz as the Walt Disney logo plays on the screen. 

Ferdinand, Dorothea, and Lorenz all sing along to literally every song. Ferdie and Lorenz quietly quote most of the lines before Dorothea hushes them so Claude can absorb everything. 

Hilda has fallen asleep against Claude’s shoulder, while his arm is wrapped around her. 

Claude points at the TV, watching Sebastian get chased around with a knife from Chef Louis. “Him. I wanna be the crab.”

“Sebastian?” Dorothea asks. “Oh, oh my Goddess, I see it.”

Ferdinand laughs. “Oh, Claude will _definitely_ get cast as Sebastian.”

“Sweet deal,” Claude says, with a satisfied snap of his fingers.

“I wanted Sebastian!” Lorenz complains. 

Dorothea scoffs. “Lori, you’re a tenor-bari. You don’t fit his range.”

“Love him to bits, but he doesn’t have the range, darling,” Claude memes. 

Three of them laugh, while Lorenz pouts and Hilda drools on Claude’s shirt. 

As the movie comes to a close, Dorothea reaches for the remote. “So, the musical itself actually adds a lot more songs, if you feel like listening to them, Claude.” 

Claude smiles and shrugs. “Sure, I’m down. I wanna see how high Sebastian has to go.”

“Oh,” Ferdinand says, “Very.”

And he’s right, Claude thinks, listening to the Broadway version of “Under the Sea.” 

“Yeah, I can probably do that,” Claude says with a nod. “Even if I just have to start screaming the end part.”

Lorenz huffs. “Screaming? Absolutely no tact. You’d better not expect to get casted if you don’t even use proper singing technique.”

Dorothea rolls her eyes. “Lorenz, we don’t really have a ton to work with, here. Not everyone is classically trained.” She smiles and ruffles Ferdinand’s bright, wavy hair. “Not like our Ferdie.”

“I was referring to myself…” Lorenz mutters. 

Dorothea ignores him and begins typing something else into the Youtube search bar on the TV. “I wanna listen to Ferdie show off a little.” 

Ferdinand clears his throat, smiling radiantly. “Thea, may I have this dance?” 

“Why, certainly!” Dorothea croons, standing and offering Ferdinand her hand after hitting “play” on the instrumental version of “One Step Closer.”

The two of them improvise a dance together as the song plays, twirling around each other and laughing as Claude claps along, completely entranced. 

Ferdinand’s voice rings clear, his lively vibrato resounding strong in his chest, his vowels and consonants articulated handsomely. His belt only strengthens after the key-change. 

“ _Cheek to cheek_ ,” he sings to Dorothea, “ _Toe to toe, heart to heart_ …” He softens on the extended note, twirling Dorothea around and pulling her in against his chest. She squeals and laughs, hugging him tight as they sway together. He really sings and dances like a perfect Disney prince, and Claude tells him so when the song is over. 

Ferdinand, usually bursting with confidence, is suddenly shy and fiddling with his hands after the flurry of compliments. “You all really think I’ll be cast as Prince Eric? I would be so happy, you don’t even know…!”

Dorothea tugs playfully on his arm. “Ferdie! You are _golden_. You’re the most talented boy in the theatre department!”

Even Lorenz agrees with that notion.

“Damn,” Claude says, “That makes me wonder who’s gonna be the Little Mermaid herself.”

“We won’t know until everyone auditions,” Dorothea replies. She squeezes Ferdinand’s hands, and he squeezes back. 

Claude gently shakes Hilda from her nap. “Hey, Hil, are you gonna be the Little Mermaid? Is it gonna be you?”

Hilda ‘slaps’ him across the face, except her hand is limp and lazy - it’s more of her sliding her palm over him. “That’s a fat no from me. I’m gonna be fish number 5 and do jack shit nothing, please.”

“Oh my lord, you’re such a spoilsport,” Claude teases her, encompassing her in a half-tackle, half-snuggle. She squirms underneath him while Dorothea and Ferdinand rope Lorenz into singing “Les Poissons” with them until Ferdinand’s father yells faintly upstairs for them all to be quiet. 

After dinner, a movie, and basically watching through the stage show, it _has_ become pretty late. 

The gang just decides to sleep over in Ferdinand’s basement (after he makes sure to provide them all with plenty of blankets, since it’s still only the end of a bitter-cold January.) They all settle down in a bit of a cuddle puddle on the large, L-shaped sofa.

“Lori,” Ferdinand whispers, rolling over to face Lorenz, who is laying flat on his back and wearing one of the leave-on face masks he keeps at Ferdinand’s house. 

“Mmhm?” Lorenz hums sleepily, without opening his eyes. 

“I’m starting to get nervous,” Ferdinand admits, “I think I really, really want to play Prince Eric.”

“Oh, Ferdie, It’s like Dorothea said. You are Prince Eric from toe to tip. You’ll be fine.” Lorenz smiles, though his eyes are still closed. “Besides, Ferdinand von Aegir does not get nervous. 

Ferdinand laughs, but he tries to muffle it behind his hand. “You’re right, you’re right, just like always.” He settles his head down on his pillow and curls up with a content sigh. “Goodnight, Lori.”

Ferdinand von Aegir most definitely will not be nervous. Ferdinand von Aegir most definitely doesn’t spend half the night with his thoughts racing, wondering which audition song he’ll pick. 


	2. FUCK what da Principal said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard meets with the Principal to discuss financial matters.

It’s late afternoon at Garreg Mach, and all classes are over for today. 

Edelgard isn’t above curiosity. But that isn’t the only reason she’s standing before the audition sign-up sheet, checking the list of names. She also needs to make sure there’s a high enough interest to propose a bigger arts budget to Rhea’s stingy ass. 

Hubert is beside her, scanning the sheet of paper as well. 

“The list has filled up considerably,” he notes, lifting the front page to reveal a second page, almost three-fourths full of names. “We may have to print a third page if more students sign up by the end of today…”

Edelgard hums and nods in agreement. 

“I believe this may be more sign-ups than we’ve had in the past,” Hubert continues, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Surely, the Principal won’t be able to muster a good argument against supporting your production.”

Edelgard sighs. “Oh, she’ll find  _ some _ way to try and weasel out of giving up money,” she grumbles.

Hubert chuckles. “I had hoped to encourage some optimism.”

“That woman drains all the optimism out of me.”

“And me as well,” Hubert replies with a solemn nod. “She barely coughed up the keys to a spare closet to store what little props we have, and yet the very next day, the baseball team were all carrying around brand new metal bats.” He shakes his head. “And they haven’t even made the playoffs in three years. Asinine. I can only imagine what other ridiculously bent priorities she has this season.”

Edelgard crosses her arms. “I've changed my mind... I’d like to go back to the optimism, please, Hubert.”

Hubert smiles and nods. “Apologies.” He tilts his head toward Manuela’s music room at the end of the hall. “I spoke with Miss Casagranda earlier today. She gushed with excitement over being asked to music direct. She also mentioned that she was already in contact with people willing to form a pit band for you.”

Edelgard’s brows raise, and her heather eyes light up. “Oh! Really?”

Hubert nods again. “Yes, and they are willing to volunteer. So money is of no concern on that particular front.”

Edelgard’s shoulders sag as a sigh of relief leaves her lungs. “You have no idea how wonderful that is to hear…” She straightens back up. “Well, that’s one thing off my plate.”

“Indeed.”

Edelgard opens her mouth to say something else, but both she and Hubert have their attention snatched as a loud thud sounds from the entrance to the callway. 

“Owch!” a frustrated voice grunts, as the small redhead it belongs to trips ungracefully over the trash can. She scrambles to try and shove crumpled papers and candy wrappers back into the overturned bin. 

“Hello, Annette,” Edelgard greets her gently, stooping down to help. 

Annette squeaks, nearly jumping out of her shoes. Her face is almost as red as her hair. 

“Everything alright?” Edelgard asks, brushing the last of the garbage back where it belongs before lifting the trash can back to its standing position. She holds her hand out to Annette and pulls her back to her feet. 

Annette nods hastily, unable to meet Edelgard’s eyes. “I’m fine! I just… Um…” She shuffles her feet. “It’s… okay to audition, if someone hasn’t, um, auditioned for any of the shows before?”

Edelgard blinks at her. “Of course. In fact, I encourage new auditions. It gives everyone the chance for a learning experience.”

Annette’s lips tug upward in a shy smile. “Oh, good! Good.” She laughs to ease her own nerves as she scurries over to the callboard, quickly scribbling her name onto the sign-up sheet. She manages to smile at both the older students. “See you later, Edelgard! And Hubert!” She scampers back out of the callway again. 

Edelgard returns to Hubert. “Speaking of new auditions…”

Hubert raises one eyebrow. 

Edelgard has her gaze on the audition sign-up. There is a pregnant pause that admittedly puzzles Hubert. 

“I suppose I’ll have to submit you a stage manager application again, won’t I?” Hubert comments to break the silence. “I know it’s merely a formality, at this point…” He smirks. “But I like to stick to protocol… Um. What are you doing?”

Edelgard’s pen is moving across one of the lines on the sheet. 

“Edelgard, what are you doing?” Hubert repeats. He tries to peer over her shoulder with his height, but Edelgard stands close enough to the paper to block it from his view. She turns around and smiles up at him. It’s the smile Edelgard makes whenever she knows something he doesn’t. The only smile of hers that Hubert can’t say he enjoys. 

“Hubert…”

Hubert can feel a cold sweat creeping down the back of his neck. “Edelgard…”

Edelgard snorts and brings a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. 

The corners of Hubert’s mouth twitch, and his skin begins to crawl. 

“You’re not going to stage manage for me, this time,” Edelgard says so simply, as if it doesn’t drain the minimal light from Hubert’s eyes. 

“You can’t possibly be serious,” Hubert rasps. 

“Oh, I’m serious,” Edelgard insists, still smiling easily. “You’re auditioning.”

Poor Hubert stands in stiff silence. 

“This musical is very important to me,” Edelgard continues, “And so I want the chance for you to be in it.”

Hubert finally remembers he must actually breath, and drags a hand down his face, smearing it, and groans deep in his throat.

“I  _ know _ you can carry a tune,” Edelgard points out, poking Hubert in the center of his chest. “I hear you in choir class all the time, despite singing so solemnly.” She places her hands on her hips. “I already wrote your name down, and I’ll just rewrite it if you try and cross it out. I’ll even drag you to the audition room myself.”

Hubert lets out a long,  _ long _ sigh. He makes sure to draw in a full breath before he speaks. 

“Edelgard… I never said I wouldn’t audition… I just… Who will fulfill the stage managing role in my stead?”

“Byleth.”

Hubert doubts he has ever regretted asking a question more in his life. 

“Don’t make that face,” Edelgard chides. 

Hubert rubs his temples. “I cannot help myself, and for that I apologize. I am just… not accustomed to the idea of being on the other side of the performance. The performing side, that is. I…” He takes another deep breath. “Like I said and have said many times, I am willing to do anything to ensure your production succeeds with flying colors, but I am just… hesitant. About…  _ This.  _ And especially that… That person.”

“Hubert, don’t you trust me?” Edelgard asks, and oh, how Hubert hates that she can pluck so easily at his taut heartstrings. 

“Of course I do,” Hubert answers instantly. “It’s Byleth that I cannot say the same for.”

“Well, I trust Byleth.”

Hubert quiets, and looks at Edelgard with resignation. 

“Relax,” Edelgard says, “and think about what song you’ll audition with next week.”

There is a long, quiet moment between them before Hubert gives in to a small smile. 

“Very well.”

Edelgard smiles right back again. “If you purposely throw your audition to try and the production team instead, I’ll never forgive you.”

Hubert chuckles. “Understood.”

They leave the callway together, Edelgard offering to buy Hubert his favorite coffee from the cafe in town. 

It’s the hour spent with Hubert in the cafe that relaxes Edelgard enough to hold her contempt as she enters Rhea’s office for a conference with the administration. She smiles politely at her, Vice Principal Seteth, and Treasurer Alois as she takes a seat in the chair across from the Principal’s desk. 

“So, what was it you needed to discuss with us, Edelgard?” Seteth asks, hands folded in his lap. 

Edelgard crosses her legs and leans against Rhea’s desk a bit, noting how her eyes narrow, just slightly. 

“I would like to negotiate the budget cuts to the theatre department from last semester that continue into this one.”

Already, Rhea begins to frown. 

Seteth seems to sense her unease. “I see.” He clears his throat. “Edelgard, I am afraid we are in somewhat of a bind with our funding divisions,” he begins, “And I apologize if it’s caused your club any inconvenience…”

“It very much has,” Edelgard replies curtly. “For reasons I can’t say I understand.”

Rhea’s frown deepens. 

“Well,” Seteth continues, and Edelgard notices a bead of sweat forming at his brow. “We had to make a calculated decision to prioritize certain needs for the school as a whole. I can promise you the budget cuts were not made out of spite or out of personal preference.”

Edelgard listens politely, but damn if she doesn’t believe a word out of Seteth’s subordinate mouth. “I’m afraid I’m not any more enlightened than when I came in here. I’ve taken a look at the budget itself and noticed that there  _ was _ prioritization. A large sum of money went to inviting the recent religious speaker - which I surveyed that many students didn’t appreciate-”

“You’ve _ seen  _ the budget?” Seteth interrupts her. “How?”

Edelgard ignores the question as Hubert’s devious smile flashes in her mind, and Rhea begins filing through a bewildered but unconcerned Alois’s folders.

“In addition to that, there were new equipment replacements for multiple sports teams, despite  _ our  _ department barely being able to scrape together enough props for each show, let alone building materials for our sets,” Edelgard points out, “And now we’ve basically been forced to rely on pure generosity for our pit band-”

“Pit band?” Rhea finally speaks up, interrupting Edelgard. And oh, does that set a fire in her belly. But she clenches her teeth and holds a closed-mouth smile. 

“Yes.” Edelgard leans back in her chair, back straight, chin tilted up just enough to make Rhea’s forehead wrinkle as her brows furrow. “We are putting on a production of The Little Mermaid this spring.”

“A musical?” Rhea asks, affronted. 

Edelgard holds her smile. 

“Edelgard. That is far too ambitious to undertake. We simply do not have the resources. Not only that, but it’s just…” Rhea brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “It’s…”

“An amazing idea!” Alois suddenly pipes up, surprising Edelgard and nearly knocking Seteth from his chair. He stands up and approaches Edelgard. “Garreg Mach has never put on a musical, as far as I can remember!”

Edelgard chuckles. “Exactly why I’d like to break tradition!”

“Break tradition…” Rhea mutters under her breath. 

“I for one have always loved the arts!” Alois declares, his voice booming with enthusiasm. “And with something like The Little Mermaid, imagine the costumes and the setpieces you’ll need, huh?” 

Edelgard nods. “My thoughts exactly. I want this production to shine, being the precedent for the future of Garreg Mach’s drama department.”

Immediately, Alois is pulling out a checkbook. “Well, tell me how much you need!”

Rhea sputters. “Alois!”

Seteth holds up a hesitant hand. “I… We cannot exactly change the way we’ve allocated our resources, as wonderful as it is to offer your support…”

Alois’s pen moves across his check, unwavering. “I’ll just do it out of pocket, then!”

“C-can he…! Do that…?!” Rhea hisses.

“I…” Seteth frantically flips through a booklet, presumably of strictures and protocol. “I don’t see anything that says he… can’t…”

“It’s settled, then!” Alois exclaims, holding a hefty check out to Edelgard’s thrilled, smiling face. 

Edelgard’s lip trembles as her smile stretches into a grin. “Alois…! You have no idea how grateful I am, how grateful everyone will be for this…”

Alois laughs heartily. “Don’t mention it, Edelgard! Just make sure you put on a lovely show, because I’m going to be there opening night, every matinee, closing night…”

Too elated to hold back, Edelgard gives him a tight hug, and then rushes out of Rhea’s office, not even bothering to spare her a second glance. She texts Byleth: “Everything is a go! Thank your Uncle Alois for me!”

Byleth texts back: “:-)”

Edelgard hugs her phone to her chest. It’s going to happen! It’s really going to happen!

And Lady Rhea's going to eat shit!


	3. Audition Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of reckoning has come. Annette is not ready.

At seven-thirty on a Tuesday evening, Garreg Mach is all but abandoned. 

Save two students, both dusted with dirt and sticky with sweat, carrying duffle bags. They’re lingering in the callway, staring at the callboard, one holding two lacrosse sticks, the other twirling a red pen in his fingers. 

“Should I do it?” Sylvain asks Felix, and taps the pen tip against his bottom lip. 

Felix rolls his eyes, arms crossed. “I told you, I don’t care what you decide. I’m fine either way.” 

Shaking his head, Sylvain sighs. “You don’t think it’d be fun to take a break from lacrosse for one season? I mean, our team hasn’t really been doing that great, and they’ve got plenty of new midfielders coming up from JV.” He smiles and taps Felix on the head with his pen, dodging as Felix swats his hand away. “Wouldn’t it be fun to do a musical?”

“I told you,” Felix repeats, “Do whatever you want. But I’m not auditioning.” 

Sylvain snickers, and writes his name on the audition sheet. “Alright, alright. But it would be fun…”

Felix sneers. “Yeah, right. Maybe fun for you to watch me embarrass myself. I can’t sing for shit. I’ll just do tech.”

Sylvain’s eyes light up. “Wow, you’re really still gonna do it with me?”

Felix shrugs. “Well, it’d be boring playing on a team without you.” 

Sylvain grins. “Feeeeliiix, that’s adorable,” he teases. He shrieks and dashes halfway down the callway when Felix drops the sticks with a clang and charges at him, fists bared. Sylvain throws his pen at Felix in a vain attempt to deter him, and howls with laughter when Felix rushes and shoulders him into the wall. Sylvain can see a hint of a smile on Felix’s face, too. They keep playfully jostling each other in the empty hall, only stopping when they think they hear a faculty member shout in the distance. 

Sylvain and Felix quickly scoop up their sticks and duffle bags, rushing out the side door at the end of the callway, exiting out onto the loading dock. 

“Huh. Never been back here,” Sylvain remarks, looking around at the wooden pallets leaned against the walls and the various inside jokes and pictures spray-painted onto the door. The two of them continue on, headed toward Sylvain’s car in the lot. 

“Well, if you make it in, you’ll be seeing a ton of this area.”

“That reminds me! Felix, you know a lot about musical theatre and stuff, right?” 

Felix’s cheeks burn red. “I do not!” he argues. 

Sylvain shakes his head, exasperated but amused. “That’s bad news! I’ve got no idea what to sing for the tryouts.”

“Tryouts,” Felix mutters, snorting a small laugh.

“Felix, what do I sing?” Sylvain presses. “The tryouts are _tomorrow_!”

Felix clears his throat and mutters something. 

Sylvain turns to him, tapping him on the head with his lacrosse stick. “What was that?”

Felix pushes the netting against Sylvain’s face, making him sputter and draw back. “I said, just…!” He looks at the ground as they walk. “Sing… ‘All That’s Known’ from Spring Awakening.”

Sylvain blinks. “Uh… Okay. I’ve never heard that one.”

Felix groans. “I’ll play it when we get in the car… I have the soundtrack downloaded on my spotify…” he admits. 

Sylvain snickers. “Cute.”

“Die.”

“You’ll help me practice, right?”

“...Yeah.”

Wednesday evening at 5:54 PM finds Ashe watching Annette: She’s flopped face-down in the middle of the lobby outside the callway by the box office, screaming into his backpack. He waits patiently for her to stop, while Mercedes pops open a tupperware of fresh-baked raspberry tarts. 

“She’s still not finished?” Mercedes asks with a giggle. 

Ashe shakes his head. “Not yet, but I think she’ll have to come up for air soon…”

“Or at least for a tart, right Annie?” Mercedes calls gently, holding the container toward her. She sits by Annette’s head, while Ashe is by her feet.

Annette does lift her head back up, and sucks in a forlorn gasp. She snatches one of Mercedes’ tarts and shoves it into her mouth with a whimper. 

Ashe laughs uncomfortably. “Annette, it’s gonna be okay…”

Mercedes nods. “You’ve practiced your song so many times, and it sounded even better each time you sung it!” she reassures her. “You’re going to blow them away, I promise.”

“You’ll at least do better than I’m going to!” Ashe jokes lightheartedly. 

Annette whines. “You two… Ugh…” She sighs. “I’m just so nervous! I don’t sing in front of other people, let alone _Edelgard!_ ”

“Edelgard is just another student,” Mercedes reminds her. 

“But she’ll be judging me!” Annette insists. “What if I can’t handle that? What if I mess it up super bad, and I don’t even get into the show?”

Ashe scoffs in spite of himself. “That’s nonsense, Annette!” He blushes and then scratches his head awkwardly. “S-sorry… I only mean that you’re too talented to pass up! I don’t think Edelgard would exclude you.”

Mercedes pats Annette’s thigh. “He’s right, Annie. Edelgard is a fair director. She understands that people get nervous.”

“Yeah! She’s seen me flub my auditions every time, and she still casts me!” Ashe jokes again. He’s proud when Annette finally lets out a laugh. 

Poor Annette had been gnawing her nails and tearing out her hair for the past week as she worried herself sick over the auditions. She’s been continuously burying her stress in mountains of Mercedes’ sweets. It’s… sort of worked? Not really. But at least they’re good!

Annette shifts her position rolls onto her back, laying her head in Mercedes’ lap. She squints against the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling, and then gives up and just closes her eyes entirely. 

“Why did we have to show up early…?” Annette groans.

“I thought you said you wanted to get it over with,” Mercedes reminds her, stroking her hair. 

“I knoooow,” Annette wails, “But I’m dumb!”

“False.” Ashe pats Annette’s arm.

“But no one else has even come yet!” Annette insists. She slaps her hands over her face and groans again. “And that means I’ll have to go fi-”

The sudden opening of the heavy auditorium doors startles Annette and Ashe, while Mercedes looks up with a smile. Byleth pokes their head out and looks around before their eyes settle on Mercedes. 

“Are you all still the only ones here?” they ask.

Mercedes nods. “Careful, Annie,” she murmurs as she gingerly trades Annette with Ashe and stands up. “Did you find a folding table?” 

Byleth nods back, nudging the door open with their foot until it locks into position. They slide a table through the opening as Mercedes comes to meet them, and they both assemble the table right outside the doors. Mercedes takes a pile of papers from her backpack and sets them atop the table, along with a few pens. 

“Mercedes, you’re tabling?” Ashe asks, awkwardly holding Annette’s head in his lap. 

Mercedes lets out a soft laugh. “Mmhmm. I figure if I’m out here, maybe people won’t be as nervous!”

“Ah…” Annette murmurs, “I guess that’s true…” 

The church bells ring faintly above, signaling the hour. Six-o’clock. Annette freezes.

Byleth smiles. “Mercedes, have them fill out their sheets and send them in when they’re ready.” They unlatch the door and close it, returning to the auditorium, the heavy slam jolting Annette.

Ashe tries to give an encouraging smile. “Anne-”

Annette presses her face into his chest, hiding in the thick fabric of his hoodie. 

Ashe is bright red in the face as Mercedes hands him two audition sheets and two pens. 

“It’ll be okay, Annie!” she assures before settling back down at the table. 

Ashe gives Annette’s back a couple of tentative pats. He looks at the papers in his other hand. He curls over Annette’s back and uses it as a writing surface, and smiles when she starts to giggle ticklishly. 

“H-hey…!”

Ashe chuckles. “Stay still.”

She does, and Ashe finishes his work, gently pulling Annette’s hands from him. She sits up properly, and Ashe smiles. 

“Watch this.” 

Ashe returns his pen to Mercedes and pulls open the auditorium door, striding inside with his head held high. 

Annette blinks, jaw agape. She rushes over to the doors and smooshes her ear against the wood, gripping the handle. She hears Mercedes giggling, but she also hears Edelgard’s voice, very muffled and unintelligible. 

Aww, and then she hears Ashe start to sing. She snorts and tries to stifle a giggle when she remembers he’s singing, “Terminal Illness” from Thirteen. She’d suggested it herself, but she never expected Ashe to actually sing it. She almost worries until she hears laughter, from _Edelgard_. 

Annette yelps and reels back when the door re-opens, and Ashe emerges with a bright smile. His eyes immediately meet hers and he puffs out his chest with a little pride. 

“Now you don’t have to be scared about going first!”

Annette blinks at him. And then, sunshine beams from her face as a cheery smile shines across it. With a burst of determination, rushes into the auditorium just as Byleth is saying, “I’ll tell Mercedes we’re ready for the next- Oh, hi.”

Annette then rushes back out, realizing she didn’t fill out her audition sheet. She returns to the room much slower this time, red face hidden behind her paper. She descends down the aisle into the orchestra where Edelgard, Byleth, and Manuela are all seated. 

Byleth holds out their hand, and Annette turns her audition sheet in to them. She finally must look up at their faces. All three of them are smiling easily. 

Byleth scans over her sheet with Edelgard while Manuela holds out a portable speaker and an aux cord. Annette stares at it.

“Did you have a backing track?” Manuela asks. 

“Oh…!” Annette blurts, scrambling to pull her phone from her pocket. “Yes, here…” She clumsily hooks her phone up, missing the audio port twice before the cord finally clicks into place. 

“Will you step up onstage for us?” Edelgard asks her. 

Annette nods, obliging. 

Huh. From up here, they all look smaller. That helps… a little bit. 

“Whenever you’re ready!” Edelgard calls.

Annette takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes. “Ready…!”

The jolly harpsichord and jovial flutes of “Happy Working Song” play for Annette, and she thinks about a messy room, and starts to sing. She pantomimes sweeping and scrubbing, twirling and skipping around on the stage by herself, doing everything she can to keep her eyes away from the production team as her light, cheery voice twinkles and floats through the still air of the auditorium.

And then, her sixteen bars are finished as the audio track (that she cropped herself) fades out. Annette releases her imaginary broom, and her hands are shaking, but she opens her eyes and smiles as she descends from the stage to retrieve her phone. 

“We’ll be emailing everyone tonight about tomorrow’s callbacks,” Edelgard tells her, still smiling the same smile she had on when Annette had first entered the room. 

Ugh…! Was she bored? Was she unimpressed? What is she thinking?! Was it the worst she’s ever-

Annette pinches her palm behind her cupped hands where the three others can’t see it. 

“Thank you so much!” Annette says politely, and scampers out of the room. 

She’s met with Ashe grinning proudly at her. “You did it!” he congratulates her as all the tension in her fizzes out in a wheeze. 

Beside her, at the table, filling out sheets for Mercedes, are Dorothea, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Hilda, and Claude. 

“You sounded amazing in there!” Dorothea compliments her, and Ferdinand smiles brightly and nods in agreement. 

“We had no idea you had such a lovely voice!” he adds. 

Annette’s smile is frozen on her face, but her eyes are empty, and dull as stones. “You all… Heard me…?”

“Yep,” Claude answers with a simple smirk that Annette finds herself despising right now.

“It’s surely impressive how well you project for someone who’s had no training in technique-”

“Shut up and compliment her like a normal person, Lorenz!” Hilda interrupts, smacking him on the arm. 

Mercedes is saying something, but Annette is dead and corpses can’t hear!

Ferdinand smooths out the wrinkles in his sweater and fixes his collar. He straightens up and holds his audition sheet carefully by his side. “Well, here I go!” As he passes Annette, the sight of his genuine, radiant smile manages to snap her from her daze. 

“Annette,” he says, “You should consider singing more! You really do have a lovely voice!” 

And before Annette can even close her mouth, Ferdinand has disappeared into the auditorium. She can’t even manage to close her mouth by the time she hears him belting, “I Feel Pretty.” 

“Loud as ever,” Dorothea murmurs affectionately.

Annette tunes out the others’ chattering as she walks alongside Ashe out to his car - He’d offered to buy her food after their auditions to distract her, and she most certainly will hold him to it. 

“Ashe…” she murmurs, “Do I really have a lovely voice?”

“Of course you do!” Ashe replies immediately. “But come on, we’re going out to eat.” He opens his passenger door for Annette to climb inside. “So you don’t have to think about auditions anymore!”

“You’re right,” Annette agrees, as Ashe is buckling himself in. “I don’t have to think about auditions anymore.” He starts the car. “I won’t think about auditions anymore!” He starts driving off, and Annette settles into her seat. 

(She does think about auditions anymore.)

The winter sun has long gone down as Edelgard, Manuela, and Byleth are pouring over audition sheets spread across their table. Hilda’s audition hadn’t seemed particularly enthusiastic, but she was undeniably good - They also had to thank her for dragging Marianne to audition, because although her voice was soft, she had a clean and clear soprano register. Cyril’s audition was a total surprise, considering how much he admired Principal Rhea and how vocal she was about disapproving Edelgard’s musical… But then Lysithea came in and auditioned immediately afterward, and it wasn’t much of a surprise anymore. Petra’s audition was lovely, and although her singing voice wasn’t the strongest, her effort was admirable as always. 

Interestingly enough, Hanneman had entered and auditioned, noting to Edelgard that not all the staff agreed with Rhea’s disdain for her department.

As usual, Dorothea and Ferdinand had blown everyone out of the water with their powerhouse belts and meticulously trained vibratos. Lorenz was... good. Claude was impressive, and Edelgard hadn't expected him to nail such high notes. But since when has Claude ever done something expected?

Edelgard’s eyes had lit up when Hubert finally sulked into the room and coughed up his audition sheet. She could see him glaring at Byleth throughout his entire song, and she had to hold in a laugh as Byleth told him, amiably, that they would get back to him, all while Hubert’s mouth was curled in a deep frown. Manuela had remarked afterward that she’d never have known Hubert could actually sing, considering how low his volume is during choir classes. Edelgard tells her it’s because of the religious nature of the songs, and Manuela understands. 

Dimitri’s audition, as usual, is rough around the edges. Poor guy isn’t exactly great at singing. But Edelgard was grateful that he had auditioned to support her. And he always does his very best. 

They’re murmuring to each other until they all silence, whipping around simultaneously to Raphael opening the auditorium doors and parading down to them. Byleth swiftly scoops the audition sheets into a pile and stows it under their chair. 

“Raphael…?” Edelgard raises her brow. “Did Mercedes send you in…?”

Byleth is checking their phone for texts, finding none. 

“Nah, I think she went to the bathroom,” Raphael answers. “I just came in to ask what you want me to do!”

Edelgard blinks, exchanging bewildered glances with her two teammates. “Umm…”

“I know you need some help with your show, so just tell me how to help!” 

Raphael’s smile is so real, Edelgard can’t even fault him. 

“Raphael… Would you like to… audition…?” she asks. 

“Sure!”

Byleth and Manuela both shrug, and Edelgard shakes her head. “Alright… Um… Why don’t you sing us, ‘Happy Birthday?’”

“Alright!” Raphael doesn’t even go up onto the stage before he immediately starts bellowing the song - and although it bounces off the walls, it’s… in tune.

“Thank you, Raphael,” Byleth says, and hands him an audition sheet. “If you fill this out and give it to Mercedes, we can let you know by email about callbacks.”

“Alright!” Raphael exclaims, taking the paper and waving at all three. “See you guys later!” He jogs all the way out the door, forgetting to close it behind him. Edelgard gets up to do it for him, and when she returns to the table, she sits and folds her hands. 

“So,” Manuela says, and Edelgard and Byleth both meet her eyes. 

Edelgard nods with full understanding. “Chef Louis?”

“Chef Louis,” Byleth and Manuela echo her. 

Manuela had elected to take a nap as 8:45 rolled around, and now she’s groggy. Edelgard had allowed Mercedes to go home much earlier, leaving the auditorium door propped open if anyone else was going to show up. Byleth is stretching, pacing around their side of the table to keep their blood flowing. 

Edelgard yawns and stands, rubbing her tired eyes. She makes her way up to the open doors, just to check and see if the lobby was still empty, but she finds her face bumped against a muscular chest. 

“Shit, my bad!” Sylvain steps back while Felix calls out, “Nice going, dumbass,” from further away. 

Edelgard has to tilt her head back to look up at his face. “You’re fine.” They start down toward the stage together, and Edelgard takes his audition sheet. “We worried you weren’t going to show. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would.” 

Sylvain rubs the back of his neck and flashes a crooked smile, his dimples becoming visible. “Yeah… I was actually learning my song with Felix and we lost track of time.”

“Oh? If you’re still not familiar with it, you can look at the lyrics on your phone,” she offers, taking her seat again. 

Sylvain shakes his head. “Nah, I got it down. Plus…” He hooks his phone up to Manuela’s speaker. “Felix told me to use this track, and it helped a ton.” He winks at the production team and heads for the stage. 

“Well, whenever you’re ready.” 

When Sylvain nods, Manuela presses “play.”

And when Sylvain opens his mouth, Edelgard feels like she’s been pushed back in her seat. 

“ _All that’s known_ ,” Sylvain sings, “ _In history, in science… Overthrown at school, at home, by blind men_ …” His dimples appear again, but as his mouth hardens in a grimace, and his eyes darken with a secular contempt that Edelgard has only before seen from herself. 

“ _All they say is, ‘Trust in what is written_.’” Sylvain lets out a bitter, jaded chuckle as he sings. “ _Wars are made, and somehow that is wisdom_...” 

My Goddess, Edelgard is _vibing_. 

Not only that… But Sylvain… He’s _good_. Edelgard gives Byleth a side glance and sees the same intrigue reflected in their eyes. 

“ _You watch me, just watch me! I’m calling_ ,” he sings, harsh on his consonants and bold on his vowels in a way Edelgard wouldn’t have expected from some jock who learned the song in a _day._

“ _I’m calling, and one day all will know_ …” Sylvain softens on the final note, holding it in his mixed voice as his audio track fades out. He smiles at the production table. “Well, that’s all I’ve got for you.”

“Thank you,” Edelgard says with a smile, “We’ll let you know via email about callbacks.”

9:30 PM.

Annette and Ashe’s phones ping at the same time, where they’re both chilling with Mercedes and picking at some leftover McDonalds fries that got cold long, long ago. Annette scrambles to open her email, and then starts shrieking in panic when her phone freezes up and won’t load. She nearly tackles Ashe off the sofa to look at his instead. And she nearly faints when she sees the list in full view. 

CALLBACKS: Thursday, January 30 from 6PM-8PM

Ariel: 

  * Dorothea Arnault
  * Annette Dominic
  * Hilda Goneril
  * Lysithea von Ordelia



Eric: 

  * Ferdinand von Aegir
  * Sylvain Gautier



King Triton

  * Dimitri Blaiddyd
  * Sylvain Gautier
  * Raphael Kirsten



Reminder to everyone who auditioned: Not getting a callback does not mean you have not been cast! We thank you all for your participation and your patience. We will have the cast list sent out by the end of the week! 

\- The Little Mermaid Production team


	4. Callbacks

“Ashe, what am I _doing_?”

“You’re gonna run the song for me one more time, Annette.”

Annette leans, dejected, over the practice-room piano and clunks a chunky chord. How in the Goddess’s name is she supposed to compete with three beautiful girls…? Hilda and Dorothea are both beauty queens who can sing and dance like nobody’s business. And not to mention Lysithea, who has a nice voice herself, and is just so _hardworking_ and talented at everything she tries. All so unlike-

“Annette,” Ashe coaxes, tapping on her shoulder. “Just one more time? You’ve got it.”

She whines, just a little, but stops at the sight of Ashe’s smile, gentle and encouraging. 

“One more time…” Annette repeats, mustering up determination and burying her nerves beneath a sunny smile. She stands up from the piano bench and nods to Ashe, who starts playing the track to, “The World Above.”

“ _It feels so right here_ ,” Dorothea sings, “ _Warm as love_ .” Her head is high, her voice is clear, back straight, projecting powerfully and effortlessly in the tiny practice room. “ _Life seems to be almost calling to me from this strange new world above!_ ”

“Flawless as usual, Thea!” Ferdinand compliments her, closing out one of the accompaniment tracks that had been emailed to everyone with their callbacks. 

Dorothea fluffs her hair and lifts her head in mock-haughtiness. “Mm, it cannot be denied…” She snorts and cackles into her hand. “Ha! I sound like Lorenz.”

“Theeeaaaa,” Ferdinand whines, “That’s not nice.”

“Neither is Lorenz!” 

Fair, Ferdinand thinks, and then leans back against the piano. “Thea, I’m scared.”

“Scared?” Dorothea repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Ferdie, you’re never scared of anything!”

Ferdinand puts his hands on his hips. “I mean, you’re right! But…!” He presses a finger down on the very last key of the piano, and then presses the other to the very first key, because come on, everybody does it. “I never would have expected Sylvain to audition, let alone get a callback for the male lead…!” 

“Oh, don’t even,” Dorothea stops him, holding her hand in the air. “Ferdie, listen to me. You are gorgeous and talented, and you have the voice of an angel.” She comes over to him and lets him rest his head against her tits. “Sylvain is a _lax bro_! In my opinion, he can’t even hold a candle to you.” 

“Thea…” Ferdinand whimpers, pressing his face platonically into her soft chest. 

“And,” Dorothea continues, caressing his hair, “If you want a little logic… Edelgard called back Sylvain for King Triton, too. And with how goofy Raphael is, and how… well… How Dimitri is… I think he’s more likely to get cast in that role than either of them.”

“I suppose…” Ferdinand mumbles, still highly unsure. 

“Come on, Ferdie,” Dorothea coos, and kisses the top of his orange head. “It’s not like you to be so doubtful! Where’s the confident Ferdinand von Aegir gone?”

Ferdinand laughs a little now. 

Dorothea smiles when he lifts his head up. “See! There he is!” She pinches his cheeks gently. “Look at him!”

Ferdinand laughs more, his usual radiant smile returning to grace his face. “Dorothea, what would I do without you?”

“Suffer, probably,” Dorothea answers. She stands up and holds out her arm. “Now, let’s head to the auditorium. It’s nearly six.”

Ferdinand links his arm with hers as they leave their practice room. They nearly run into Ashe and Annette as they’re heading out together.

“Annette, Ashe, hello!” Ferdinand greets them.

“Hi, Ferdinand and Dorothea,” Ashe returns the greeting. “We thought we might’ve heard you two next door.”

“Oh, sorry!” Dorothea apologizes, but giggles. “We’re just so loud… I hope it didn’t bother you guys…”

Ashe shakes his head. “No, Annette finished practicing awhile ago, so we’ve just been hanging out.” He smiles.

“You’re here to support her, then? That’s so sweet!”

“Aw, it’s nothing, really! Anything for a friend!” He smiles at Annette, who manages to smile back. 

They all fall into step as they head downstairs to meet their fuckin maker. Ferdinand falls behind a little, matching pace with Annette, who has her eyes glued to the floor. 

“Annette, may I say something?” 

Annette lifts her head up to meet his eyes. “Um… Sure…”

Ferdinand smiles. “I know you’re nervous, and so am I, but-”

Annette’s eyes widen. “You’re _nervous_?! You’re Ferdinand!”

Ferdinand laughs while Annette turns pink in the cheeks. 

“Regardless,” Ferdinand continues, “I think you should be proud of yourself. You’re always so dedicated to everything you do. So, right now, what else is there to do but your best?”

“Wow…” Annette murmurs, then smiles warmly. “That’s… a very good point, Ferdinand.”

“I tend to have them!”

Annette is shaking her head in amusement as the four of them meet up with the other callbacks in the lobby. 

Edelgard has organized the callbacks logically. She’d already provided tracks to the assigned songs for everyone’s individual character callbacks, and she has Byleth hand out sides to everyone - The Ariels and Erics will read together, and so will the Ariels and Tritons. 

“Ashe,” Annette asks, “Will you help me do my sides?” 

Ashe smiles, moving to peer over her shoulder at the lines on the paper. “Sure, I’ll do my best… Huh. You don’t have any lines.”

Annette giggles. “Well, yeah, this is one of the parts where Ariel doesn’t have her voice!”

“Right, right.”

Ashe begins reading Eric’s lines, and Annette performs the scene with him, gesturing and giggling in all her pure, cheerful Annette-ness. 

As they finish, Ferdinand surprises the two of them by approaching. 

“Hi again, Ferdinand!” Ashe gives him a friendly smile. 

“I hate to interrupt you two, but… Would I… be able to read with Annette…?”

Ashe nods immediately. “Oh, of course! That’s perfect, huh, Annette?”

“Yeah, I guess that does make sense!” Annette agrees. “We’ll be reading together anyway.” She looks at Ashe. “You’ll still need to watch me and make sure I’m moving right!”

Ashe chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” He settles himself against the wall.

Ferdinand and Annette begin the scene a few feet away from each other, so that Ferdinand can approach her with a tentative stride. 

“You - You seem very familiar… Have we met?”

Annette nods enthusiastically, eyes brightening with hope.

“Yes… of course!” Ferdinand exclaims, going breathless with realization as he rushes to her, taking her small hands in his and kneeling down. “It’s you! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He laughs and sighs with relief and elation, squeezing Annette’s hands. “What’s your name?”

Annette, grinning, opens her mouth, and her grin quickly fades. She shrugs her shoulders. 

“Excuse me…? You don’t speak English?” 

Annette shakes her head and mouths, “Ariel!”

Ferdinand releases her hands and stands up again, rubbing his chin in confusion. “Sore throat, eh?”

Bringing her hands to her throat, she lightly grasps it, and then releases her hands, fingers spread, and drops them to her sides, forlorn. 

“I’m sorry…” Ferdinand murmurs, the joy gone from his voice. “You don’t… speak at all, do you…?” He lowers his gaze to the ground. “For a moment, I mistook you for somebody else.”

Annette’s eyes widen with desperation, and she tugs on Ferdinand’s arm to steal his attention back. She starts frantically pantomiming swimming, wiggling her back and bobbing her head, and then grasps at the air and locks her arms across her chest. 

“What is it? You’re hurt?” 

Annette shakes her head, rocking her arms in a cradle motion, and then feigning a gasp as she places her fist before her throat and brings it up to the sky, opening her hand.

“No, no, you… Need help…?” Ferdinand trails off, voice squeaking up in puzzlement. 

Annette shakes her head more vigorously this time, vigorous enough to knock herself off-balance. She wobbles back and forth until she falls right into Ferdinand’s arms. 

“Whoah, whoah! A bit dizzy, aren’t you?” Ferdinand teases with a forgiving smile. “I’ve got just the remedy! A warm bath and a hot meal!” He helps Annette steady herself and takes her hand in his. “Come on now… The palace isn’t far.”

The two of them separate with a smile, and Ashe claps enthusiastically. 

“How was that?” Annette ask him immediately as she rushes over. “Was that okay?”

Ashe laughs, ruffling her hair. “I keep telling you, Annette! You’re great!”

“He’s right!” Ferdinand echoes him.

Ashe smiles up at Ferdinand and points a finger gun at him. “Hey, you were great, too! You’re like, a perfect Disney Prince!”

Ferdinand blushes and flaps his hand bashfully. “Ugh! Don’t tell me that, you’ll get my hopes up!”

All three of them laugh lightheartedly, and boy, does it help relieve them of all the built-up tension and anxiety the day had wrought upon them. 

The Tritons perform their songs first, as well as their scenes. Annette feels very small reading with all three of these guys. She’s glad she goes with Raphael first, because although he’s goofy and it doesn’t really fit the scene, it helps calm her nerves and lets her deliver her lines properly. It also seems to lighten the mood of the production team as well. 

Reading with Sylvain is easy enough, even though he makes a bit of a tasteless joke about having to remember that Annette is his daughter, and so can’t wink at her. Edelgard rolls her eyes at that one, and Annette does the same, just on the inside. 

Dimitri throws himself into the role as much as he can, mostly making a show of Triton’s anger and pantomiming violence with the trident. Even though he’s not the most convincing actor, it helps Annette act intimidated, and she’s grateful that he made it easy to work with him. 

Sylvain gets called back into the room to sing “Her Voice,” and Annette leaves with Dimitri. 

“Great job in there, Annette,” he compliments her, smiling politely. 

Annette shrugs. “Aw, I just did the best I could! You did a great job, too!”

Now that they’re finished, Dimitri and Raphael wave everyone goodbye and wish them good luck - that is, until Dorothea insists they take it back and wish for everyone to break their legs. They correct themselves, although they’re a bit confused, before they head out. 

Before long, Ferdinand finishes his callback song (that everyone can definitely hear from the hallway).

“ _Damn_ ,” Sylvain remarks, smiling and arching a handsome eyebrow. “He’s so good!”

“We been knew,” Dorothea murmurs, and then moves past Sylvain to the door to receive the flushed and nerve-ridden Ferdinand. 

“Goddess,” he breathes, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this riled up over a callback…”

“It’s okay, Ferdie!” Dorothea croons, hugging him and rubbing his back. “You just care!”

“I do,” Ferdinand sighs, “And it’s ruining me!”

“Here, let’s get your sweater off, you’re burning up.”

Ferdinand gets his sweater off and performs the readings without it, only in his white button-down and his prim, pressed khakis. With the right pair of boots, he’d really look like the prince. But for now, he’s just good ol’ preppy Ferdie. 

That is, until he enters the room with each Ariel. 

When Annette reads with him again, there’s a reinvigorated, adventurous, princely air he’s carrying even more than he had before. It flusters her a bit, but she uses it to her advantage, playing up her excitement and innocence to bounce easily off of him. 

Before everyone knows it, every Ariel and Eric have read together, every Ariel has performed her song (Annette did it without dying or crying!) - and the clock has struck 8 PM on the dot. 

“All of you, get home safe,” Edelgard addresses them. “And check your emails this weekend for the cast list!” She smiles. “Thank you all so much for your time!”

Everyone nods and extends their own thanks before they all head out of the school building, leaving the production team in the auditorium to deliberate. 

Hilda and Lysithea wave to everyone before scampering to Claude’s car together. Claude leans out the window and calls out, “Hey, hope you guys busted your legs open!”

“That’s not the phrase, idiot!” Lysithea scolds him. 

“It’s the one I’m using!”

The others laugh and wave as Claude drives off to take the two girls home (well… Hilda’s probably not going home.)

It’s Sylvain’s turn to flash his crooked and dashing smile to the group, dimples making themselves known again. “Hey, that was pretty fun, huh? You guys are all great!”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Sylvain!” Ferdinand says, good-naturedly.

Sylvain shrugs. “Ah, you know, I’m just here for a good time!” There’s a loud BEEP from a car, and highbeams illuminate Sylvain in a harsh, scolding light. 

“Alright, alright!” Sylvain calls out, rolling his eyes but still smiling. He jogs over to Felix’s car, flashing a peace sign. “Later!”

The final four say their own goodbyes to each other, Ferdinand and Dorothea engulfing Annette in a big hug and begging her not to be too nervous for the rest of the night. 

Ferdinand heads to Dorothea’s car with her, while Annette heads to Ashe’s with him. 

Doors open, doors close, seats buckle. Engines rev, headlights shine on. 

“I’m scared,” Ferdinand and Annette both say.

“You don’t have to be!” Dorothea and Ashe both reassure. 

Edelgard clasps her hands together and closes her laptop, smiling proudly at Byleth and Manuela. “Well… This it it, everyone!”

“The librettos will arrive on Monday, you said?” Manuela asks. 

“Right,” Byleth answers, “Tomorrow we’ll just be watching a bootleg of the show.”

Edelgard nods. “And after that…” She slings her backpack over her shoulder and stands from her seat. “The fun _truly_ begins.”

EMAIL SENT: Thursday, January 31 10:04 PM

THE LITTLE MERMAID CAST LIST

Ariel - Annette Dominic

Eric - Sylvain Gautier

Grimsby - Hanneman von Essar

Flounder - Ashe Ubert

Scuttle/Pilot - Ferdinand von Aegir

King Triton - Dimitri Blaiddyd

Sebastian - Claude von Riegan

Flotsam - Hubert von Vestra

Jetsam - Lorenz Gloucester

Ursula - Dorothea Arnault

Chef Louis - Raphael Kirsten

MERSISTERS

Aquata/Princess 1 - Hilda Goneril

Andrina/Princess 2 - Petra MacNeary

Arista/Princess 3 - Flayn Cethleann

Atina/Princess 4 - Lysithea von Ordelia

Adella/Princess 5 - Anna Strassman

Alanna/Princess 6 - Marianne von Edmund

ENSEMBLE

Cyril Madani, XXXXXX, XXXXX, XXXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's panic time.


	5. Read-Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The read-through happens. I used to play lacrosse, so sorry there's lacrosse in this chapter.

Annette’s screaming rings through her bedroom and clips the crappy webcam microphone on her laptop. 

Mercedes laughs, putting a finger to her smiling lips. “Annie! It’s late! You’ll wake up your mother!”

“I can’t help it, Mercie!” Annette is shaking her pillow, and then flops over, almost kicking her laptop off of her bed. She scrambles back up to steady her computer, and she hears Mercedes and Ashe both laughing on the other side. “I’m just…! Oh my gosh, I’m so excited! I can’t believe it!”

“I can!” Ashe grins at her. “You were the cutest one there, after all…”

“What? Your mic cut out!”

Ashe turns bright red, and then coughs into his hand. “I just said, you gave it your all…”

“Ashe, you must have, too!” Mercedes points out. “You got cast as Flounder! That’s so exciting!” 

He settles against his headboard and lets out a bashful laugh. “Ah, you know… I’m just glad I got a role that doesn’t have to sing.” 

There’s a silence. 

Ashe takes a careful look at his screen, trying to see if Anette and Mercedes’ faces are frozen in the chat window. They aren’t. 

“Guys? Did I cut out again?”

Annette smiles, but it’s crooked and goofy. 

“No, but…” She giggles. “Ashe… Flounder has a song.”

Ashe raises his eyebrow. “Huh? No he doesn’t.”

“Well… In the movie, he doesn’t sing,” Mercedes says, also smiling with just as much amusement, “But Broadway Flounder has a big musical number with Ariel’s sisters.”

“Here, let me play it!” Annette offers, opening her phone and finding the cast album on Spotify. She starts playing “She’s In Love,” skipping to Flounder’s verse. 

Ashe’s jaw falls open. He just listens like that, to all the crisp harmonies and bold chords and _bolder_ vocals. 

“There’s just no way…” Ashe murmurs, breathless. 

Mercedes lets him stew in his disbelief a little bit before she speaks up. 

“Don’t worry, Ashe,” she assures him, “Edelgard asked me to transpose some of the tracks while Manuela does the same to the sheet music. You’re not going to sing that high.”

Ashe lets out a long sigh of relief. “Good… My voice would’ve cracked.”

“More than usual?” Annette teases.

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” she laughs. She smiles warmly at him through her webcam. “For real, though… I’m happy that I get to be the Little Mermaid, but…” A soft pink adorns her cheeks, or maybe it’s just the lighting from her room, or the crappy camera quality, or whatever Ashe convinces himself. “I’m even happier that I get to play your best friend onstage!”

Ashe can’t fight back a big grin. “Annette… Me, too.”

A lacrosse ball smacks into place in Sylvain’s pocket, against the firm but worn netting. Felix is draped in full sweats to protect himself against the winter air, but Sylvain... he’s in a light hoodie and shorts. Goddess knows why. 

“I have to re-string this sometime,” he mutters, cradling the ball briefly before passing it back to Felix. 

“You could just get a new stick,” Felix says, catching the ball and switching hands to pass it lefty. “Like I’ve been telling you.”

Sylvain swaps to lefty in response, catching the ball and smirking. “But this is the stick I got for the year we won the championship!” He tosses the ball up and lets it bounce against the side of the stick’s head, hitting it up and down like that to himself. 

“It wasn’t like it was _just_ us.”

“Yeah, but I ran the ball up from the other side of the field,” Sylvain flips his stick over and catches the ball on the backside, “And then I fed it to you, and you leaped up and made a bounce shot from in the air, all in one motion! And it won us the game!” He shovels the ball back to Felix, who smirks as he bunts the ball back toward Sylvain with his shaft. Sylvain laughs, dodging and letting the ball bounce a few feet away into the grass. 

“Alright, well, when you put it like that…” Felix murmurs. 

Sylvain sits in the grass while Felix jogs over to scoop up the ball. He drops it lightly onto his head, and Sylvain chuckles, patting the space beside him. Felix sits, dropping his own stick onto Sylvain’s and hearing the metal shafts and plastic heads clang. 

“Fe, I’m nervous,” Sylvain says. 

Felix snorts. “Yeah, you’ve been nervous all day.”

Sylvain groans. “Fe…” 

Felix leans back, resting his weight on his hands, palms flat against the ground. “Talk to me.”

“It’s… the show.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d be more excited. You got a lead on your first try.”

Sylvain huffs, dragging his hands through his hair and falling back, laying in the grass. “I know…! I just…” He groans again. “I saw the rehearsal schedule that Edelgard sent out, and… I got… intimidated.”

Felix shrugs. “Well, yeah, Edelgard is gonna work everyone’s asses off so that Rhea can eat her words.”

“I _know_...” Sylvain repeats , “But I don’t think I can really… Like… Give my all in a mushy Disney musical…”

“What do you mean?” Felix raises a brow at him and then narrows his eyes. “You’re being wishy-washy.”

Sylvain grumbles, running a hand through his fluffy hair again. “I didn’t realize how much commitment this was gonna require. I’d ask for a different role, but I think the ensemble people are going to have to do even more stuff…”

“Theatre requires basically the same amount of time that our shit does, if not more.”

Sylvain sighs. “Yeah… I wish I’d known that…”

Felix watches Sylvain mope, tugging at his hair and furrowing his handsome brows. He finally joins him on the ground, leaning over Sylvain and resting his crossed arms on Sylvain’s chest. 

Sylvain’s eyes suddenly light up, and he removes his hands from his hair to cushion the back of his head, reclining now. “Hi.”

“I already told you before, I don’t care what you choose to do,” Felix reminds him. 

Sylvain smiles. “Wasn’t there a second part to that?”

“You’ll have to remind me.”

Sylvain rolls his eyes. “You also said you’d go along with me.”

“Hmm. I guess I did say that.”

Sylvain reaches one hand up to Felix’s cold-flushed cheek and cups it, his heart skipping a beat when Felix leans contently into his touch. 

“I’ll see how I’m feeling after the read-through tonight. I’ll at least give it a chance,” Sylvain promises.

Felix shifts onto his hands and knees so he can loom over Sylvain, and then leans down to kiss him softly on the lips. Sylvain lets him, feeling the loose hairs from Felix’s messy bun brush over his skin. 

“Hey, you’re pretty cute,” Sylvain murmurs playfully, when Felix pulls away. “Can I take you out to eat? Maybe get to know you better?”

Felix smirks. “Whatever. But I’ll have you know, I’m seeing someone.”

“Huh. Is he taller than me?”

“Yep, and better looking.”

After the two of them snicker and get back up, Felix tosses Sylvain’s ball back to return it - but it falls straight through the netting of his stick as it finally gives out. 

“Huh.” Sylvain blinks dumbly at the empty stick. “We’ll stop at STX on our way…”

There are several public places in which Ferdinand von Aegir has cried. Kroger, The Mattress Firm, PetSmart, Subway, the DMV, the local dispensary…

And now, Applebees can be added to that list. 

Granted, there are a lot of reasons one might cry in an Applebees, given that it is Applebees. But right now, Ferdinand is in Lorenz’s embrace, holding Dorothea’s hand across the table of the same booth they’d eaten in a few nights ago. 

“Let it all out, Ferdie,” Lorenz croons, running a soothing hand up and down his back.

“Do you want me to order you more sweet-potato fries?” Dorothea offers. 

Ferdinand sniffles, and Lorenz dabs at his eyes and nose with a napkin. “No… Thank you, though…” he mumbles. 

Dorothea frowns sympathetically, cupping Ferdinand’s chin so she can look him in his watery eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Ferdie… I hyped you up so much, it probably made this fall hurt even more…”

Ferdinand shakes his head. “No, Thea, it’s not your fault…”

Lorenz leans his head against Ferdinand’s shoulder, squeezing him gently. “In my opinion, you should’ve been the choice.”

“You’re not helping, Lorenz!” Dorothea scolds. 

Ferdinand just sips his juice, tearfully, while the two bicker over him, until a looming shadow falls over the table. He looks up and meets, to his surprise, the glimmering eye of the last person he’d ever expect to set foot within a hundred feet of an Applebees. 

“H-Hubert…?” Ferdinand snivels. 

“You look miserable,” Hubert greets him, ever the charmer.

Ferdinand pouts.

Lorenz pulls Ferdinand closer, cradling his head against his chest defensively. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I invited him,” Dorothea answers, before Hubert can hiss out some insult. She scoots over so he can sit with them. “He said he was stressed.”

Lorenz raises an eyebrow, allowing Ferdinand to sit up properly again and return to his juice. “Hubert? Stressed about _what_?”

“About _quite_ a few things,” Hubert growls. “One of them being you, but I’ll start by describing a more _important_ matter.”

Lorenz narrows his eyes, and his nose starts to scrunch in contempt.

“I made a promise to Edelgard that I would do whatever she required of me to help her show succeed,” Hubert continues, completely ignoring him. “But I cannot stand the thought of her having to entrust a stage manager’s duty to _Byleth_.” The disdain drips from his mouth like syrupy venom as he pronounces the Black Eagles’ student teacher’s name. 

Hubert is still complaining as the server hands him a glass of water. “How could she so easily replace me with the likes of them? Have I not proven myself to be of the utmost capability for her? How could that person possibly begin to understand how they must dedicate themselves to her, let alone match up to the duties I performed?”

“It’s not that deep, you were a stage manager,” Lorenz mutters. 

“Every duty I perform for Edelgard, I perform with my full devotion. So _yes_ , it _is_ that deep.”

“Then, by that logic, shouldn’t you stop complaining and put forth that same effort for the role she so generously offered to a snake like you?” 

“The main thing stopping me from receiving this task with _delight_ is the unfortunate reality that I must work so closely alongside _you_.”

“You’re _lucky_ you’ve been paired with me, _Boo_ bert! At least I have a mind for technique and the nuances of performance! You should be grateful that I’m willing to offer your sorry self any guidance, because you’d be pawing around in the dark without me here!”

“Boys!” Dorothea snaps. “You seem to forget that we’re here to support _Ferdie_!”

The Ferdie in question is moping with his juice straw in his mouth. 

Lorenz and Hubert glare at each other for a moment longer before relenting. Lorenz runs an apologetic hand through Ferdinand’s wavy hair. 

“I’m sorry, Ferdie, you deserve to complain more than either of us…”

Hubert just sips his water and leans back in the seat. 

“I don’t… Really want to complain…” Ferdinand hesitates. 

Dorothea pats the back of his hand. “I think you’ll feel better if you at least let out some of your thoughts.”

Ferdinand whines. 

“If I may…” Hubert pipes up, and everyone’s eyes flit over to him. He crosses his arms, looking only at Ferdinand. “There are times when I wonder about Edelgard’s decisions. And although I am wholly devoted to helping whatever cause she undertakes, I still make my own observations.” He reaches for his cup and sips his water again. Ferdinand watches him, unblinking. 

“From a completely objective standpoint, your talents are superior to… well, every man in our department. I’ve seen what you can do firsthand,” Hubert continues. “And whatever reason Edelgard may have had to place you where you are, I have the sincerest doubt that it was due to any lack of skill on your part.”

Ferdinand’s eyes are wide now. “That…” He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. “That was… what was eating at me the most… I thought that perhaps… Edelgard didn’t think I was good enough to play that part. It… it feels terrible because I know how hard I wanted to work at it, to do the best I could, but then to be denied the chance…” He shrugs sadly. 

“I doubt anyone could give anything as much care as you could, Ferdie,” Dorothea says, squeezing his hand and pushing his juice back toward him so he takes it. 

Lorenz scoffs. “I just think Sylvain sings more punk-rock than broadway classical, and that it’s just a bad move to-”

Dorothea kicks his shin under the table, and he shuts up. 

“Let’s not be mean-spirited,” she chides. “Let’s all just be good friends and comfort Ferdie - we don’t need to put anyone down to do that.” 

Hubert is checking his watch. “Ah… We’re cutting it a bit close. We should call for our check if we don’t want to be late.”

The group of four calls for their check and bounces out of the Applebees, all giving Ferdinand their own little pats on the back. 

Felix sips on his lemonade. 

Sylvain grimaces, stirring the ice in his soda. “Lorenz can eat my fuckin’ balls.”

The read-through begins smoothly enough. Edelgard gives a quick speech to everyone, thanking them for being a part of the production and congratulating them all on the hard work they’d done to get here together, and encouraging them to keep working hard throughout the whole process. 

Byleth is gathered with the Tech Heads: Dedue for House, Felix for Lights, Mercedes for Sound, Caspar for Run Crew and props, Bernadetta for Costumes, and Ignatz for Set Design. They’re talking about drafting a light plot with Felix when Ingrid approaches, asking to help and then immediately making suggestions of her own. When she and Felix start arguing, Byleth simply begins to hook up their laptop to the projector, not wanting to deal with that bullshit. 

Sylvain is watching Felix, like he usually does, from one of the seats in the choir room. He’s fiddling on his phone until Annette approaches him, with Ashe tagging along behind her. 

“Sylvain! Congratulations!” Annette cheers and approaches him for a shy hug. 

Sylvain smiles genuinely at her, patting her on the head and squeezing her back. “Hey, you too!” He lets her sit down beside him. “You’re a perfect Ariel, you know. You’ve even got the red hair!” 

Annette giggles. 

“By that logic, shouldn’t you be cast as Ariel, Sylvain?” Ashe teases. 

Sylvain grins. “Huh. You might be right.” He ruffles Annette’s hair. “I’m gonna tell Edelgard I need to swap parts with you.”

Annette laughs, playfully swatting his hands away. 

Byleth plays the bootlegged recording of The Little Mermaid on Manuela’s projector, and somehow, the overture, even though it’s not that loud, feels like it’s blasting against Sylvain’s eardrums. 

Hilda and Claude join them soon, and they start complimenting Sylvain, too. He doesn’t really notice when they arrive. All their words seem jumbled together. To his own shame, he barely notices when Felix actually joins him, sitting behind him and propping his feet up on the back of Sylvain’s chair. 

There’s so much light. The costumes are so cartoonish, but still intricate. The actors are all… Heelying? The choreography, there’s so much. Sylvain feels like he’s upside-down and the blood is rushing to his head. 

As soon as “I Want the Good Times Back” plays, Dorothea squeals. 

“Huuuuubiiieee!” She latches onto Hubert and hugs him tight, much to his chagrin. “It’ll be so much fun to have you as my little minion instead of Edelgard’s!” 

“Oh, Goddess,” Ashe mutters, as “She’s In Love” plays. “There’s just no way.”

Dimitri starts to sweat when Triton sings the reprise to “World Above.” 

“El…”  
“Yes, Dimitri?” 

He just looks at her, eyes wide, like a helpless puppy.

“We can work on it, Dimitri.”

As soon as “Poor Unfortunate Souls” starts playing, Dorothea stands, and the cast begins to cheer as she sings along (flawlessly). Her belt can’t be beat. She finishes off Act 1 with that, and Byleth pauses the video to let everyone take a five-minute intermission. 

“Hey,” Felix had whispered to Sylvain, leaning over the back of his chair, “Meet me in the bathroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Of course Sylvain would agree, so he’s sitting alone in one of the stalls, head leaned against the dubiously cleaned wall, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. He hears footsteps enter the bathroom and stop in front of the mirror, and for a moment he thinks it’s Felix. His hand freezes on the metal latch to his stall door when he hears the soft sob. 

Ferdinand sniffles and dabs at his eyes with one of the pocket tissues Lorenz had given him. “Ugh… I thought I was finished with all of this earlier,” he scolds himself. He sighs, resting his hands on the bathroom counter and leaning against it, looking at himself in the mirror. He lets out a weak chuckle at the sight of his flushed face and already puffy eyes. “Oh, Ferdie, you’re not a very pretty crier…” 

Sylvain swallows as quietly as he can, and sits on the toilet, lifting his long legs up so they can’t be seen under the stall door. 

Gently, Ferdinand claps his hands against his cheeks. “I’m tired of crying, I’m finished. I’ve done it enough,” he pep-talks himself. “This shouldn’t be different than any other time! I’ve just… I’ve just got to do my best.” He summons up a bright smile for the mirror.

“Ferdinand von Aegir always does his best. And that won’t change today.” He crumples up his tissue and tosses it into the trash bin. “I’ll just give everything I’ve got, no matter what.” Ferdinand takes a couple deep, steady breaths. He examines himself in the mirror and splashes his face with a little cold water to diminish the redness, smiles confidently, and then strolls back out of the bathroom. 

Sylvain waits in silence long after Ferdinand’s footsteps have faded out of earshot. It’s another minute until Felix announces himself, and Sylvain emerges from his stall. 

“You doing okay?” Felix murmurs. 

Sylvain smiles. “Yeah… Wanna sleep over at my house after this is over?”

“Sure… And nothing’s bothering you right now?”

“Nah, not anymore.”

On Saturday morning, at 8:47 AM, Dimitri had returned from a morning jog, and had only gotten halfway through his bowl of Corn Puffs before he heard the sounds of outrage from Edelgard’s room. 


	6. Executive Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard and Claude get up to shenanigans with Dimitri.

Dimitri can hear Edelgard’s muffled ranting just over the crunch of his cereal. He can hear her footsteps, pacing in the same circle, and he wonders if she might run a hole through the floor and fall onto the kitchen table. 

He pauses his eating, listening as carefully as he can. “Can’t believe,” he hears, “expected… Troublesome… Claude…” 

Claude?

Dimitri brings the bowl up to his face and drinks the milk as Edelgard sulks down the stairs. Fully dressed, she drudges into the kitchen, brows furrowed, mouth stretched in a thin frown, and sits heavily in the chair beside Dimitri at the little, square table. Her arms thud against the wood as she crosses them, and then slumps her chin over top. 

“Good morning, El.” Dimitri puts his bowl down, and now he has a milk mustache. It at least serves to make Edelgard smirk. 

“Hi, Dimitri…” 

Dimitri smiles, still not realizing what his face looks like. “Is anything the matter? You look like something’s bothering you.”

Edelgard sighs, and smears her hands over her face in frustration. “Ugh… Yeah… Mmngh….” She groans, and then rests her cheeks in her hands with her elbows on the table. “Claude will be over soon. I’ll talk more about it when he gets here.”

“Okay!” Dimitri has already pulled Edelgard’s favorite peach sorbet out of the freezer, and hands it to her with a spoon. 

She smiles, eating it straight from the tub like she usually does. 

Claude doesn’t take long to arrive, and Dimitri lets him inside to come sit at the kitchen table with them. Claude does so, but only after shedding his large, puffy coat, his thick scarf, a wool hat, an additional, smaller jacket… He doesn’t really like winter. His cheeks, ears, and nose are flushed bright red, and Dimitri offers him some cocoa that he gratefully accepts. 

“So, will you tell me what’s bothering you, El?” Dimitri asks when they’re all seated. 

Edelgard releases a long sigh, rubbing her temples. “Yeah. Well…” She huffs. “Sylvain dropped the show.”

Dimitri’s brows rise into his forehead. “He did?”

“Yep! And then Felix dropped  _ immediately  _ afterward!”

“When did this happen?”

“He sent me a text around six this morning. I didn’t see it until just a bit ago, and I tried to call him, but he silenced it - and I  _ know _ he silenced it because it only rang twice both times I called!” Edelgard pulls her phone from the pocket of her sweatshirt, and shows Dimitri her screen. 

At 6:16 a.m., Sylvain sent: hey uhh i cant do the show, hope thats ok, ill see u arnd

“And he didn’t even tell me why!” Edelgard continues. “I wouldn’t be this annoyed if he’d just give me a reason! Ugh… And I know I don’t  _ need  _ one, no one has to do this show, but it’s just that Bernadetta has already started work on Sylvain’s costume, already bought all the materials, she’s sent me pictures of what she’s gotten done… And now, I’m gonna have to tell her he’s not doing the show, and she’ll have to rework  _ everything _ ! She’ll have to re-draw patterns with  _ much _ less leg, she’ll have to rework the colors to compliment a different skin and hair, and… ugh! That’s money and time down the drain!”

Edelgard shakes her phone in frustration. “And not to mention Felix! I’m down a lead and a lighting head!”

“Huh…” Dimitri murmurs, as Claude is wiping the milk from his face with a wet paper towel. “I guess that explains the texts Ingrid sent me.”

“What texts?” Edelgard presses. “What did she say?”

“She was talking about having to step up and take responsibility for all of Felix’s mess. I just figured she was being Ingrid, but I guess she was trying to tell me that he’d quit.”

Edelgard hums. “So… she’s not quitting, huh?”

“Why do you sound unhappy?” Dimitri asks. 

“Ah… no reason.”

Claude snickers. 

Edelgard sits back down, looking at Dimitri with a frown. “I know two of your good friends aren’t doing the show anymore, but if you’re thinking about quitting, I hope you’ll give me a chance to persuade you to stay.”

Dimitri’s eyes widen, and he looks at Claude, who blinks at him imploringly, for a moment before looking back at Edelgard. “El, I’m not quitting the show. I’m excited to be a part of it!” He scratches his blond head, chuckling bashfully. “Granted, I’m not sure how well I’ll perform the part, but I’m still going to do the best I can.”

Edelgard’s face warms with a genuine smile now, and she steps out of her chair to come hug his head. “Dimitri, you have no clue how relieved I am!”

Dimitri pats her arm, leaning affectionately against her. 

Claude stands from the table now, checking his phone. “Well, with that… Dimitri, are you busy right now?”

Dimitri, in a pair of soft, blue pajama pants and one sock, shakes his head. 

“Claude, not that I dislike seeing you, but why are you here, anyway?”

Edelgard answers as she’s grabbing her purse from the rack on the wall near the front door. “Claude likes taking me on little adventures whenever I need to de-stress.” 

“You can come, if you wanna,” Claude overs, winking at Dimitri. 

Dimitri, sacrificing fashion for comfort, accompanies his pajama pants with a hoodie and a pair of socks and slides as he climbs into the backseat of Claude’s car. 

About seven minutes later, the car pulls into a Target parking lot, dusted with snow as it continues flurrying in the bitter cold outside. 

When the three of them walk inside, Dimitri sheds his sweatshirt and tosses it over his shoulder. He looks, bewildered, at Claude and Edelgard when they keep their big, puffy winter coats on. 

“You aren’t going to take those off?”

Both of them shake their heads. 

“We’re too cold,” Claude replies, winking again. 

Dimitri follows them around the store, watching them meander through the candy and snack aisles, quietly scooping bags of snacks into their pockets, sliding candy into their sleeves, shoving food, bottled drinks, random toys, and even pints of ice cream into their jackets. 

“Oh, guys,” Dimitri points out helpfully, “If you need to carry stuff, there are baskets up near the front. I can grab one.”

“No, we’re alright on our own.” Edelgard shakes her head as Claude takes Dimitri’s wrist gently and tugs him along with them to the cosmetics section. 

“We’d rather let the baskets be used for people who need them more,” Claude adds. “Edelgard, do you need more falsies?”

“Yes!” she exclaims. “You know the kind I like - Oh, I like this facewash… Claude, do you wanna do animal facemasks?”

“Yeah, totally!” Claude is slipping a few bottles of nail polish into his sleeve. 

As the three of them leave the section, they pass by a shelf with 99-cent boxes of mac-and-cheese, and Claude picks one up. 

Dimitri follows the two of them all the way to the self-checkout, and he watches Claude scan the single box and toss it into a plastic bag. 

“Oh, I think you guys are forgetting to-”

Edelgard sneezes into her elbow, while Claude grabs Dimitri by the front of his shirt and yanks him down for a kiss on the lips. Dimitri’s eyes widen, and his face flushes bright pink. 

“Oh. Thank you, Claude.”

Claude and Edelgard tug him out of the store by each of his arms, and don’t release him until he’s gotten into the car. When Claude and Edelgard settle into the driver’s and passenger’s seats, they toss their huge jackets into the backseat beside Dimitri. 

As Claude pulls out of the lot and starts driving them back, Dimitri speaks up in absolute bewilderment. 

“You guys… didn’t… pay for anything.”

“We paid for a mac and cheese!” Claude points out, winking at Dimitri through the rearview mirror. 

“But…” Dimitri picks up Claude’s coat and shakes it, watching as tubes of mini m&ms, two pints of gelati, a TV dinner, a bag of chips, a spiderman-painted hot wheels car, three bottles of nail polish, the false lashes Edelgard wanted, and a box of tampons all tumble out into his lap. “What about all of that?”

“Well, to be fair, Hilda shouldn’t have to pay for her menstrual products,” Claude replies, and Edelgard hums in agreement. 

“Yes…! But…! The other stuff?”

“Don’t worry, Dimitri, we just liberated all the other items,” Edelgard tells him, and Claude snorts and cackles. 

“This is what you do to de-stress, Edelgard…?”

“Hey, nothin’ makes you feel good like giving a fat finger to a corporation,” Claude says.

“Exactly. We’d never do something like this to a privately-owned business,” Edelgard adds, and Claude nods. 

“Lucky we got out of there before Dimiti narced our asses.”

Edelgard laughs. 

Dimitri opens his mouth, but then closes it and pouts. “You guys… You should have told me first, I wouldn’t have narced…” 

“Yes you would have,” Edelgard argues. 

“No I wouldn’t have!”

“You almost did without even trying.”

“Well, if I had _ known _ !”

“I’m changing your name to “NARC” in the groupchat.”

“El!”

Claude just laughs, listening to the two of them squabble, until they finally arrive back at Edelgard and Dimitri’s house. They gather up their stuff and rush into the house to avoid having to be in the harsh cold any longer. Edelgard apologizes for teasing Dimitri by offering him a pack of cheese-sticks that she’d snagged, and he accepts it happily. They settle in with their snacks and relax in the living room together. 

“Dimitri,” Edelgard says stiffly, as Claude is placing a panda facemask over her. “Turn on Mario Party.”

Dimitri obeys, booting up Mario Party 8 on the Wii (they like this one better than the newer ones). He hands Claude and Edelgard two wiimotes and makes sure he uses his designated wii-mote, which has both the jacket and the wrist strap on it to keep him from breaking anything. 

Edelgard picks Toad, and Claude picks Peach and complains about never getting to play as her whenever Hilda is with him. Dimitri picks Mario, and they make fun of him for picking the basic character until he feels bullied enough to switch to Boo. They pick Birdo as the fourth player and set her to “Easy” all while handicapping themselves with 3 bonus stars and giving her none. It’s just tradition. 

They’ve dug well into their candy and snacks and have gone around Shy Guy’s train a couple times before Claude asks Edelgard about the casting situation. 

“Well, I have a fix that should probably be easy enough,” Edelgard answers. “I’m at least lucky that Sylvain quit early on, and not three weeks before the show.”

“Are we allowed to ask who you’re re-casting?” Claude raises his eyebrows at her. 

“I know you’re only asking me so you can hear me say it and not because you dont know,” Edelgard says, rolling her eyes and lightly batting Claude on the shoulder. She smiles. “I’m going to visit Ferdinand tonight and talk to him.”

Dimitri tilts his head. “What about the seagull part then?”

Edelgard waves her hand at the two of them. “Hey, I’m the director. You’ll find everything out when I resend the cast list!”

Hubert’s is not the face she expects at  _ all _ when Edelgard knocks on the front door to Ferdinand’s home at 7:26 p.m.

“Good evening, Edelgard,” Hubert greets her.

“Hi, Hubert. Ferdinand is home, right?” Edelgard asks. She holds up the target bag Claude had used for their macaroni, now hosting a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. “I wanted to talk to him.”

Hubert opens the door and moves aside to let her pass, and closes it softly behind her as she yanks off her boots. Socks padding softly on the hardwood, the two make their way into the living room, where Ferdinand is seated on the sofa. 

He lifts his head up in surprise at the sight of her. “Edelgard? What are you doing here?” His tone is not malicious, only intrigued. 

Edelgard smiles, handing him the baggy. “Congratulations.”

Ferdinand raises his brow and accepts the ice cream with a crooked, puzzled smile. “Thank you, this is my favorite flavor! What’s the occasion?”

Edelgard takes a seat beside Ferdinand while Hubert leans against the backside of the couch. “The occasion…” Her smile becomes puzzled now. “Ferdinand… You haven’t checked your email…?”

Ferdinand shakes his head. “No, I haven’t been on my phone. Hubert and I were just hanging out.”

Edelgard’s brows raise up enough to threaten her hairline. “You and Hubert… Were  _ hanging out _ ?” She tilts her head to look behind at Hubert, but he’s got his eyes trained away from her, clearing his throat. 

Ferdinand smiles easily. “Yes, he was unexpectedly kind to me yesterday, and my father isn't home tonight, so I invited him over to have dinner with me!” He nods toward the dining room, visible through a large, ornate arch, where two empty plates and wine bottles are still sitting. 

Edelgard’s smile softens. “Ferdinand… You really, really should check your email.”

Ferdinand blinks at her, looks at Hubert, who only shrugs, and then gets up to retrieve his phone from the charger on the endtable. He sits beside Edelgard as he opens his phone, and then clicks with bewilderment on the unread email titled “Little Mermaid Cast List.” 

“Edelgard, why did you resend the message again?”

Edelgard rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “Ferdinand. Look more carefully at it.”

Ferdinand squints at first, before his jaw falls open.

Edelgard smiles warmly. "I came over to ask if you would accept the role.”

EMAIL SENT: Saturday, February 2 at 6:47 P.M.

THE LITTLE MERMAID CAST LIST

Ariel - Annette Dominic

Eric - Ferdinand von Aegir

Grimsby - Hanneman von Essar

Flounder - Ashe Ubert

Scuttle/Pilot - Cyril Madani

King Triton - Dimitri Blaiddyd

Sebastian - Claude von Riegan

Flotsam - Hubert von Vestra

Jetsam - Lorenz Gloucester

Ursula - Dorothea Arnault

Chef Louis - Raphael Kirsten

MERSISTERS

Aquata/Princess 1 - Hilda Goneril

Andrina/Princess 2 - Petra MacNeary

Arista/Princess 3 - Flayn Cethleann

Atina/Princess 4 - Lysithea von Ordelia

Adella/Princess 5 - Anna Strassman

Alanna/Princess 6 - Marianne von Edmund

ENSEMBLE

XXXXXX, XXXXX, XXXXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. And the show was re-cast.
> 
> and YES it was absolutely necessary to write edelclaude shoplifting from target and NO i dont take criticism


	7. Blocking Rehearsal

“This just developed this morning?” Hubert asks. 

“Yes,” Edelgard answers, “Sylvain quit the show.”

Ferdinand’s jaw remains agape, his phone dropped from his left hand onto his thigh, and his pint of ice cream numbing his right. Hubert is the one who removes the ice cream from him before it starts freezing his fingers, and places it on a coaster. 

“I, for one, am not surprised…” Hubert murmurs, snide. “He struck me as the type unable to dedicate himself to anything but a sport…”

Edelgard bats Hubert’s shoulder lightly. “I don’t need to hear it, Hubert.” Hubert, in response, just crosses his arms and tightens his mouth with indignance. Edelgard takes Ferdinand’s hands in her own, and locks her gaze with his bewildered one. 

“So… Ferdinand…” She smiles gently. “Would you like to step up and accept the role of Prince Eric instead?”

Ferdinand opens his mouth.

And then closes it.

And lowers his head dubiously. 

Edelgard just blinks at him. 

Hubert leans over the back of the sofa to try and inspect his face. “Ferdinand. Didn’t you want this part more than anything?”

Ferdinand still can’t bring himself to meet either of their eyes. “I… I…” He lets his hands fall limp in Edelgard’s. “I don’t… want to be a second-place, or a fallback… Or an almost.”

Edelgard’s mouth hangs open now. She immediately squeezes Ferdinand’s hands and draws them to her chest. “Ferdinand, no. Never.” She brings one hand under his chin to lift his head up. “You are _not_ second place to _anyone_. You…” She sighs. “Can I tell you why I had you cast where you were before?”

Ferdinand nods, and Edelgard thinks he looks like a puppy with his chin resting in her hand, his lower lip sadly puffed out. 

“Ferdinand… You are so incredibly talented. You are by _no_ means a second-rate performer. During your callback, you were just fantastic, and your skill as an actor made me certain that you would excel at any role you took on. And…” She shrugs. “Sylvain only really gave us one dimension, and well, we placed him where we thought he could do a good job, and we did the same with you.” Edelgard squeezes Ferdinand’s chin gently and affectionately. “You would have performed excellently in both roles, and we just placed you in one of them based on circumstance.” 

A small laugh bubbles from Ferdinand, and he closes his eyes. 

“Now, I realize picking Sylvain was a lapse of judgment on my part. I didn’t realize he wasn’t motivated, and I-”

“Edelgard, wait,” Ferdinand interrupts her, lifting his head up and finally squeezing her hands in return. “Please, don’t feel like you’re at fault. You’re the director and I trust your judgments. I would never want to disrespect your choices, and I just want to do my best at whatever role I’m given.” He smiles at her now, and pats the back of her hand. “That’s all I ever want to do.”

Edelgard smiles and remains silent, but it’s not an awkward or uneasy one. She runs her thumb over the back of Ferdinand’s hand. 

“Ferdinand. You really are a perfect prince.”

The two of them laugh, and they hug each other, Edelgard patting the back of Ferdinand’s head as they hold onto each other. The two of them turn and look at Hubert, who is still watching. 

“Hubert,” Edelgard calls slowly. 

Hubert blinks at the both of them. 

Ferdinand and Edelgard both extend their arms. 

Begrudgingly, Hubert leans over the back of the couch so that they can hug him, too. Just because. 

“If you’re willing to move Ferdinand around, may I request not to have Lorenz as my scene partner?” Hubert asks, face nestled in both Ferdinand and Edelgard’s hair. 

“Nope. But it was a nice try.”

They separate from their hug, and Hubert stands upright again.

“Well, if I’m still going to have to work with that grape-flavored cretin…” Hubert strolls into Ferdinand’s kitchen and opens up one of his cabinets, pulling out three glasses. He reaches underneath the counter and opens another cabinet to retrieve a very lavish-looking bottle of red wine. He pops the cork off with the bottle opener sitting atop the counter. 

“Hubert!” Ferdinand scolds playfully, popping open his ice cream now. 

“Isn’t that Mister Aegir’s wine? Ergo, not yours?” Edelgard teases. 

Hubert chuckles, pouring out three glasses. “You have your coping, and I’ll have mine.”

The next couple of weeks passed by smoothly enough - Every cast member met to do character work, there was a rehearsal dedicated to heely lessons (which many people were thrilled about), and the opening had been fully choreographed. 

Today, Edelgard is blocking Scene Five: the one where Eric drowns. 

“I’m still so happy, Ferdinand!” Annette had told him cheerfully. “I’m just so excited that I get to sing with someone as amazing as you!”

Ferdinand had laughed brightly. “Annette, you are absolutely precious!” he coos. “I’m going to adopt you.”

“Adopt me?” Annette giggles. 

“You’re a redhead who loves to sing and dance!” He squeezes her in a hug. “So, you’re mine now!”

Annette feels heat rush to her face, but she hugs Ferdinand back with a smile. 

Currently, Cyril, Annette, and Ferdinand are onstage so Edelgard can choreograph the movements for Ferdinand’s rescue. 

“When we have our ship setpiece,” Edelgard is telling him, “You will pretend to fall behind the wall of the ship, where the audience can’t see you. And Annette will swim around after you. We’ll have a projection up until the two of you re-emerge on stage right, and you’ll carry him to center downstage, Annette. Cyril, you’ll fly in from the opposite side.”

The three of them take a moment to mark their scripts before performing the transition. Annette and Cyril end up in front of the proscenium, with Ferdinand laying on his back, eyes closed. 

Annette can feel heat returning to her face now, cradling Ferdinand in her arms and holding each other’s faces so close together. 

“ _What would I give to live where you are? What would I pay to stay here beside you?_ ” Annette sings to him, in a quiet, tender breath. 

Ferdinand’s eyes remain closed, but a smile spreads across his face. 

Annette squeaks. “Hey! You’re messing me up!”

Ferdinand laughs and waves his hand around in an apology to both his scene partners and Edelgard. “Sorry, sorry! You’re just adorable, Annette! I couldn’t help myself.”

Edelgard smirks, but remains firm. “Okay, let’s focus and finish this up.”

Annette does manage to make it through the rest of the scene, singing all the way through the Part of Your World Reprise, albeit quietly. Edelgard gives her a note to project more.

Afterward, Annette and Ashe find themselves upstairs in the soundbooth after Edelgard had moved on to block “Her Voice” with Ferdinand and Hanneman. It was the last thing to do, and technically the two of them could leave, but Mercedes is here! And they love Mercedes! They like Linhardt, too. He and Mercedes had both taken a couple turns on Linhardt’s dab pen. So… they’re more than content, spinning slowly in their rolly chairs. 

“Edelgard has planned so thoroughly already,” Linhardt remarks, and he sounds weary as though he’d done the planning himself. Just _thinking_ about hard work exhausts him. He shakes his head. “She’s even choreographed the finale, according to Dorothea.”

“Mm, I saw that!” Mercedes adds. She giggles behind her hand, and her gaze sets on Ashe. “It’s going to be so adorable… Edelgard wants you and Marianne to kiss each other!”

Ashe’s face freezes with his mouth open and his eyes blank. “...Huh?”

“Yeah,” Linhardt yawns, “Y’know… how Flounder spends the whole show… pining for Ariel?”

Ashe glances at Annette and then keeps his eyes in his lap. “Uh… Yeah, I… Guess I did notice it in some of his lines…”

Annette smiles. “Well, that’s nice, that he at least gets somebody in the end…”

Mercedes spins around in her chair, then lightly pushes Linhardt’s chair to spin it, too, and he nearly stumbles and falls out of it - He would have, if not for his long legs. 

“Edelgard wants them to swim across stage to each other, during one of the violin swells, and then kiss!” 

Annette clasps her hands together and presses them against her cheek. “Aww… That’s so romantic!”

Ashe’s freckled face is turning pinker by the moment. “Oh jeez… I’ve… Never kissed anyone before.”

“Oh worm?” Linhardt says, raising an eyebrow. 

Ashe lets out a short, bashful chuckle and scratches his head. “Heh… Yeah. I hope Marianne doesn't think it's lame...”

Annette pats his shoulder. “If it helps, I haven’t kissed anyone either!” she comforts him. 

She regrets admitting it a bit when Linhardt adds, “Oh, wow, your first kiss is gonna be with Ferdinand of all people?”

Mercedes crosses her arms. “Lin, what’s wrong with Ferdinand?”

“I mean, like, nothing, but he’s just annoying.” 

“Fair.”

The image of Ferdinand’s smiling face so close to Annette’s flashes through her mind, sending heat in a mad rush to her cheeks. He’s got bright, handsome eyes, a charming smile, fantastic hair, he’s so friendly- 

Annette quickly hides her face in the sleeve of Ashe’s hoodie. 


	8. Tech Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people are more excited to be at school on a Saturday than others.

Today, the pit band has the day off, so Manuela is taking some time to work with the principals on their solo numbers. As for the rest of the cast and crew, they’re working on building the set.

Well, Bernadetta isn’t building the set. She’s holed up in the women’s dressing room, hunched over her sewing machine and a pair of trousers. 

Ingrid bursts in, and Bernadetta lets out a shrill scream. 

“It’s just me, don’t be scared!” Ingrid assures her, but it… doesn’t help at all. “I’m just looking for Byleth. Have you seen them around anywhere?”

“No…” Bernadetta squeaks, “I haven’t seen anyone today… I’ve just been in here…”

Ingrid comes closer, leering over Bernadetta’s shoulder to watch her work, which gets Bernadetta sweating. 

“Are there Ferdinand’s pants? What if you added some frills at the bottom?”

“F...Frills?” Bernadetta swallows, fidgeting with the strings on her hoodie.

“Yeah, you know how Flamenco dancers have those? You should put some on.”

“Um…”

“It’d look really cool while he dances! You should add some to his shirt, too!” Ingrid continues bombarding her. “If you put something sparkly on them like sequins or rhinestones, it would look really neat under the lights whenever Ferdinand dances! Are you doing the same things with Annette’s costumes?”

“I-Ingrid… I…! Um… Weren’t you looking for B-Byleth…?”

“Oh, that’s right!” She stands upright and clears her throat. “I’ll see you later, Bernadetta!”

Bernadetta waits for the door to shut behind her and then sinks into her chair. “I may as well just lock the door from now on…”

As Ingrid enters the auditorium, she spots Caspar’s blue head as he’s lugging a few thick, black wires toward the stage. They’re gaff-taped to the perimeter of the room, looping around to where Caspar is crawling, with a flashlight, under the front of the stage. Caspar isn’t on the Sound team. Ingrid raises a brow and follows him past the black stage skirt. 

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Ingrid can barely get the words out of her mouth before Caspar screeches and konks his head on the underside of the stage. 

“Aaahgh!” He winces and grasps his aching head with one hand while the other points the flashlight at Ingrid. “Ugh… I’m hooking up some wires to connect the sound board to the audio system…”

“Why are you doing that?”

Caspar squints at her for a moment before answering, “Uh… I figured I’d help Lin out. He’s too tall to fit under here that well.” He turns the flashlight back toward his work and starts plugging the wires in, one by one. 

Ingrid glances in the direction of the sound booth. “What about Mercedes?”

“What  _ about  _ Mercedes?” Caspar doesn’t look up from his work. 

“I mean, couldn’t she be doing this? Wouldn’t it be better for you to start taking inventory of the props and then getting more?”

Caspar rolls his eyes. “I _ did  _ that already, and I’m getting more stuff tomorrow. I can’t exactly get a clawfoot tub in a  _ day _ .” He crosses his arms and turns to scowl at her. “Why aren’t  _ you _ in the catwalk?”

Ingrid crosses her arms and reflects his scowl right back. “ _ I _ was looking for Byleth so I could ask about some of the old labels on the lighting board. But then, I saw you not doing the job you were assigned. This is a big show, so I just want to make sure we’re doing all the work we need to!”

Caspar snaps at her. “Ya know what, Ingrid? I’m getting even _ less  _ work done with you nagging me!”

Ingrid scoffs. “ _ Nagging _ ?!”

“Yeah! Nagging! Y-”

There’s a stomp from above them, and both Ingrid and Caspar freeze when they hear Byleth’s voice. 

“Hey. If you’ve got time to argue under there, you both have time to do literally anything else,” they scold. 

Caspar clicks the final wire into place before making his escape on his hands and knees, while Ingrid calls out to Byleth about needing their help. Once out in the open, he dashes up one of the center aisles, and all the way up the stairs to the sound booth. Mercedes and Linhardt are there, both giggling together and messing around on Mercedes’ laptop. 

He peers over Linhardt’s shoulder and sees they’re playing the Sims. 

Before he asks why Mercedes and Linhardt have locked seven toddlers in a burning, doorless room, he turns on the fan sitting on the counter. 

“Guys, it’s code Ingrid!” Caspar warns, fanning the air himself for good measure to clear the big ol vape clouds. 

Linhardt sighs, whining as he reaches a limp arm toward one of the big, metal shelves against the wall. He stops whining when Caspar drags a cardboard box of wires close enough that he can start picking at it. While Caspar stoops down to help Linhardt, Mercedes picks up her laptop and takes a wheeled seat by the counter. 

And just like that, the elevator to the sound booth dings, and Ingrid storms out, arm and index finger extended in an accusing point. 

“See, Byleth? They’re goofing off!”

Mercedes spins her chair around to wave, Caspar grins, and Linhardt doesn’t look up from pulling wires out of the box. 

Byleth’s gaze travels over all three of them. “Well? Are you guys goofing off?” they ask. 

“You can’t just ask them, they’ll all say no!” Ingrid protests. 

“Well,” Mercedes answers, “I’m on the internet looking for sound effects right now, like the thunder, the waves, pots and pans crashing…” She clicks ‘play’ on a sample and a thunder crash erupts from her laptop speaker. “Of course, it’ll be louder than that when it’s on the system!”

“I’m sorting wires,” Linhardt yawns. 

“Why do you need to do that?” Ingrid crosses her arms skeptically.

Linhardt picks up another wire and holds up the metal plug. “Well, because no one ever uses this sound room, all the 3XLRs, 5XLRS, Cat5s, and junk are in the same box. That’s going to make it difficult for us and anyone else who uses this system and… ugh, I’m tired of explaining this already.”

“Why do you need Caspar?” Ingrid presses. 

“He’s helping me,” Linhardt answers immediately. 

Before Ingrid can argue more, Byleth smiles at her and tilts their head toward the door on the far end of the room. “I think they’re doing fine up here. Why don’t you show me what you were having trouble with on the lighting board, Ingrid?” 

Even Ingrid can’t argue with Byleth. 

As she leads them out to the hall toward the catwalk, while her back is turned, Linhardt takes a hit of his pen. 

“Hey!” Ignatz calls, swiping a thick brush over the base of trident’s throne. “Can anyone come help me? Byleth said the person assigned to me got sick…” 

Ashe and Annette come scampering over. “We’ve got you!” Ashe volunteers, and Annette bends over to crack open a bucket of blue paint. 

“Wait, wait just a moment!” Dorothea interrupts, coming over and tugging on Ashe’s wrist. “Sorry Ashie, Bernie needed to get your measurements!” 

Ashe smiles apologetically at Annette. “I’ll see you after we get out?”

Annette smiles back. “Yeah! Go get measured!”

As Ashe and Dorothea disappears from the stage, Ferdinand jogs up through the audience to the throne and grabs a paintbrush. “Do you two still want an extra hand?”

Ignatz nods. “Absolutely! Thank you both for the help!”

Ferdinand takes a knee beside Annette, smiling a sunny smile. 

Annette feels that sun warming her face, and she glances down at the floor before returning it. “What’s that face for…?”

Ferdinand shrugs. “Oh, I’m just in a good mood! Bernadetta told me to grow my hair out for the show, so I’m excited to see what it’ll look like!”

Annette’s eyes light up. “Oh, she told me that too!” She giggles. “And Dimitri. I wonder how he’ll look…”

Ferdinand snorts. “I guarantee anything will look better than his… Whatever that is.”

Annette gasps and snorts right back, snickering into her hand. “Ferdinand!” 

Ferdinand cackles. “I’m sorry! He just doesn’t know how to style his hair!” 

Annette waves her hand and grins, trying to steady her breathing. “Okay. Okay.” She moves to pick up her paintbrush again, but she sees Ferdinand not moving. 

“Hey, come on, you said you’d help!”

Ferdinand’s smile is stretching across his whole face. 

“What?”

“You’ve, um… Got a little…” Ferdinand waves a finger over his cheek, and Annette moves her own hand to the same spot on her face. When she brings it back out, there’s blue paint on her fingertips. 

Ferdinand dips his fingers into the open paint bucket and dabs them onto his own cheek. “Here, don’t worry. We can match!”

Annette shakes her head, giggling again and resuming on the throne. “You’re… something else, Ferdinand…” she murmurs, beaming like a fool. 

The two of them help Ignatz paint seashell decals onto the arms of the throne and staple translucent draperies onto the base to cover the platform and its wheels. 

Ignatz stands up, gathering some of the extra paint buckets and thick brushes. “Would you two be able to finish the top part? I have to help Raphael with the grotto.”

“Sure thing, Ignatz!” Ferdinand answers cheerfully. 

Ignatz smiles at the both of them. “Thanks again, guys!” He scampers off with the paints, and Annette stands on her tiptoes with a thin brush dipped in gold paint. 

She stretches her arm up to try and draw a curved line across the top of the throne’s backing. She grunts a little, hopping up and down because she can’t quite reach. She squeaks when she feels hands around her waist, hoisting her up to the right level. She looks down and sees Ferdinand. 

“Go ahead, I’ve got you!” 

Annette quickly turns her head back up toward her painting so he won’t see her face painted in red. 

After the two of them wheel the throne backstage to dry, they each depart to the bathrooms to clean off their stained faces and hands. 

There’s already a racket in the bathroom when Annette steps inside. Flayn and Lysithea are standing by the sink, grilling an eye-rolling Hilda. 

“You’ve just been hiding in here all day!” Lysithea scolds, hands on her indignant hips. 

“I didn’t wanna do anything in the  _ first _ place!” Hilda argues. “And plus, I told Ferdinand I felt sick to my stomach and he went to help Ignatz!”

“Do you feel sick to your stomach?” Flayn asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“Yes! And doing physical labor only would have made it worse!” 

“There’s more to do than just lifting!” Flayn points out. 

“Which you’re more than capable of,” Lysithea adds. 

“Guys, I don’t know what you want me to say!” Hilda throws her hands up and then leans against the tiled wall. 

“I don’t know, maybe a ‘thank you’ to Edelgard for giving you such a big part, and maybe you actually do something to help the production she let you be a part of?” Lysithea snaps, sarcasm souring her voice. 

Hilda scoffs. “Is that what this is about? You’re just mad that I got put as the first mersister they name on the list? I didn’t tell them to do that!” She pouts at the mirror, not wanting to look at Flayn or Lysithea. “I even kept saying I didn’t want a big part!”

From the mirror, Hilda spots Annette creeping over to one of the stalls.

“Annette!” Hilda calls, exposing Annette as she winces. “You remember callbacks, right? I kept saying I didn’t even wanna get cast as anything, let alone Ariel! Remember?”

“U-um, yeah, I-” Annette stammers. 

“Hey!” Lysithea snaps, “Don’t just drag her into this!”

Annette just stands there, mouth hanging open helplessly, paint still drying on her cheeks and fingers, until Petra and Marianne enter the bathroom. 

Petra puts a relieving hand on Annette’s shoulder. “Everyone, people are hearing you from the hallway. Why are you yelling?”

“Lysithea and Flayn are beefing with me when it’s not my fault!” Hilda whines.   
“Hilda isn’t doing anything at all!” Lysithea and Flayn insist, overtop of her. 

Petra pushes the small of Annette’s back gently to usher her toward the sink, which she scrambles over to. “Hilda, perhaps you should be helping everyone…”

Hilda groans. “Ugh, not you too, Petra…! Everybody’s got beef today, huh?”

“Got… Beef…?” Petra murmurs, bewildered. 

Hilda looks around Petra and meets eyes with Marianne. 

“Marianne?”

Marianne shrinks. 

Hilda sighs. “Marianne, I won’t be angry at you if you scold me… I wanna hear what you really think.”

All eyes fall on Marianne, who fidgets with her hands and ducks her head. 

“Um… Well… It would be more fair, Hilda… If you came out of the bathroom and helped… Build things…”

Hilda, ignoring Lysithea’s smug smile, nods to Marianne. 

“Okay. If it’s unanimous…” She sighs again, slumping her shoulders. “I’ll go help do… something. As long as it’s not carrying wood, because I don’t want splinters!” As Hilda takes a step toward the exit, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. 

“Hey!” Claude calls, “Byleth is dismissing cast members!”

“Yes!” Hilda cheers, fist-pumping in the air before racing out of the bathroom, leaving the other exasperated girls shaking their heads. 

Manuela clears her throat and rests a finger on the “play” button to the Reprise of Sweet Child. “Lorenz, Hubert,” she addresses the two boys that are glaring daggers at each other, “Let’s at least get through the first half. I’m going to press play.” Without waiting for them to argue, she does. 

And… Lorenz and Hubert still refuse to do their dance in sync with each other. 

They don’t dance nearly close enough together, and don’t look cohesive at all. Both of them do their moves either a beat ahead or a beat behind, and they both refuse to make eye contact with anything but the floor or the walls. 

Manuela pauses again, rubbing her temples. “You two are going to look so out of place onstage.”

“I  _ am _ out of place on stage,” Hubert grouses. 

“Hubert,  _ please _ do not be difficult right now,” Manuela mutters. “I need you two to do it one more time, and please, actually in rhythm with the song I’m playing you?”

She rewinds and plays the song again. During their dance, which is only better by a sliver-thin margin, Lorenz accidentally bumps Hubert backwards with his hip and he stumbles. He catches himself against a choir chair. 

“Excuse you!” Hubert hisses. 

“Oh, don’t even!” Lorenz retorts immediately. “Maybe if you didn’t move stiff and slow as a stale French Toast stick, you wouldn’t get in the way! But let’s remind ourselves, you don’t have enough technique or tact to rival the vast amount I possess.”

“You don’t even harmonize properly.”

Lorenz sputters, face turning tomato-red. “YES I DO!” He points right at Hubert’s face, and Hubert bites down on air as Lorenz withdraws his hand reflexively. “You just mess me up because you drop the octave!”

“Lorenz, I told Hubert to drop the octave because he has a lower voice,” Manuela reminds him, voice flat with irritation. 

“What notes I sing are irrelevant. If you if you had true skill, you could harmonize properly even if I were singing an entirely different song.”

Manuela smacks her hand against the wooden top of the piano. “Hubert, now is not the time!” She groans and pinches the bridge of her nose. “It seems like neither of you are willing to be productive today, so you two need to go and summon up a better attitude. We will work on this again next music rehearsal.” She flicks her bangled wrist at them. “Shoo, go.”

While they storm out of the room, they nearly get stuck in the doorway trying to jostle the other. 

Hubert’s visible eye is seething. “If you mess this up and make Lady Edelgard look like a fool, I swear to-”

“ME?!” Lorenz squawks. “You’re acting too stubborn to perform properly! If it’s anyone, it’s YOU who looks like a fool!”

Hubert barks a bitter laugh. “ _ I’m  _ stubborn?! You continuously jump onto my harmonies when you clearly have your own written in print!” He crosses his arms and smirks darkly. “Your so-called technique is abysmal.”

“How would you know anything?!” Lorenz sneers, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ve never received vocal or dance training of any kind, so your petty criticisms are worth less than-”

“Lorenz? Hubert?”

Both parties whip around to see Ferdinand standing before them in the hall, blinking innocently. They glance at the other and then freeze.

Smiling nervously, Ferdinand lets out a small chuckle. “You guys are… shouting pretty loudly. I came to tell you we’re allowed to leave...”

“I’m sorry, Ferdie, let’s go get some tea together.”

“Apologies, Ferdinand, why don’t we head to the cafe?”

The two idiots speak at the same time, and they each grab one of Ferdinand’s arms and link it with their own. Now, they’re on either side of Ferdinand, staring, baffled, at the other. 

“This absolutely won’t do,” Ferdinand sighs. “I can’t choose between the two of you! And I don’t like seeing two of my friends fight!” He swiftly withdraws his arms from the both of them and pivots around to leave the hallway. 

Another head of red hair crosses into view through the lobby, and Ferdinand’s eyes light up as both Hubert and Lorenz try to pick their jaws up from the floor. 

Ferdinand jogs up to Annette and takes her hand as she squeaks in surprise. “Would you like to come eat lunch with me?”

Bernadetta’s pencil scratches across her notepad one more time before she starts coiling up her measuring tape. Marianne enters the womens’ dressing room after a small knock and smiles shyly at the two of them - It seems she’s the only one that can approach Bernadetta without freaking her out. 

“Hello…” Marianne steps inside and closes the door behind her. “Byleth says it’s time to leave for the day.”

Ashe stretches out while Bernadetta puts away her notebook, tape, and pins in their drawers. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and peeks at it, and then smiles and slides it back inside. 

“In that case, do you guys wanna hang out?” Ashe offers. 

Bernadetta shakes her head immediately. “N-no, that’s okay…! I’ve got… Um… lots of stuff to do at home…!” She smiles guiltily at Marianne before rushing out of the dressing room. 

Marianne turns to Ashe. “Um… I’m not busy.”

Ashe’s eyes light up, and he bites his tongue behind his teeth to keep from cheering aloud. “G-great! Okay! Uh, then…” He stretches forward to reopen the door and hold it. “Why don’t we go get food together? My car’s outside.”

Marianne smiles. “Okay.”

[](https://ibb.co/nj6vsXJ)   



End file.
